Insert Mutilated Bedsheet Dresses Here
by Crazyloon99
Summary: The Sues have infiltrated one of the craziest, most violent and sex-filled fandoms around - ROME! This mission calls for a select group of elite, well-prepared and highly trained agents - but all we have are Tash and her cohorts. Collab fic. ACMSES.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **We three authors claim no ownership of Rome. Mores the pity. I'm sure Aliso can think of plenty of things to do with Mark Antony if she did own it...

Mei1105, please get your head out of the gutter, or should I get the Society's fishing rod?

**Authors Note: **Come children...come into the lair of the WARGS...ehehehe...

This is an Anti-Cliche and Mary-Sue Elimination Society collaboration fic between myself (Mei1105), and me with the mad research (Aliso) and_ me, the whipping-post and object of loathing of the Sue in question. _(CrazyLoon).

This is set somewhere in episode eleven of season one, just after Antony starts sleeping with Atia again. So Caesar has pretty much made himself Emperor; Antony is the People's Tribune at this stage.

This is set after Insert Inconsistent Timeline Here, but before Insert Fate Cracking Moment Here.

And now for round two of the Society drinking game! Take a drink each time you read the word "cock" (this applies to all chapters, and all meanings of the word).

**Note on rating: **This is the Rome fandom. It will be violent. It will be sex filled. You don't like it, shove the hell off, and don't waste our reviewing space whining about it.

* * *

**Insert Mutilated Bedsheet Dresses Here**

The slave pulled open the heavy wood panelled door, allowing the last of the day's light to spill into the large airy room. The snow white marble pillars framed the gleaming atrium pool, pot plants adding more splashes of colour to the magnificent scene.

As the slave melted back into the shadows, where he was expected to be, two figures entered the house. A tall man in richly embroidered robes of dark red entered, an air of fun loving arrogance radiating from him as he moved. His companion was equally tall, dressed in the clothes of a military man, and was undeniably handsome, however something about him seemed unaware of this effect, and the power that it contained.

A soft lilting voice filled the room.

"Tribune Antony," the words were breathless with excitement. "What an honour."

Across the mosaic floor two couches were positioned at the far end of the atrium, occasionally obscured by fluttering silk curtains. Upon one lay a man identical to Antony's companion, however this man had no hint of self uncertainty. Instead his face was arrogant and possessed a hint of cruelty which was barely concealed beneath his good looks. A slave knelt at his side, a platter of fruit in hand.

A woman rose from the second couch, her white dress flowing around her ankles. The material was near sheer, and her stola was a deep purple, pinned at one shoulder. She carried her five foot four frame gracefully, but with the authority of someone taller. Her dark brown hair was half pulled back and hidden under a veil, and sky blue eyes seemed to darken with undisguised desire, at the sight of one of the most powerful men of the empire.

As they crossed the atrium, Antony stopped dead in his tracks and almost tumbled into the pool. A woman wearing purple? And so much of it? Such a thing was unheard of in the empire. But then the woman's beauty seemed to override this and he dismissed the thought from his mind, filling it instead with thoughts of that curvaceous womanly form barely concealed beneath that flimsy white linen.

"Something wrong my friend?" Remus, Antony reflected briefly, was a good man. Not very cunning, but had an excellent way of gathering information. No one knew where he had come from, but he had saved an entire century of Roman soldiers from marauding Gauls.

Remembering that he was in the house of a good friend, Antony screwed a slightly more appropriate face on, swept up to the lady, and graciously kissed her hand.

"Remus, you never informed me that such a Goddess dwelt in your house!"

Remus approached, clapping Antony on one shoulder as he did. He seemed reluctant to introduce the beauty standing before his superior, so instead he motioned to his twin, who was rising from the other couch, and began introductions in a formal manner.

"Antony, may I present my brother Romulus."

Antony politely inclined his head to the twin, who echoed his gesture in return.

"Tribune Antony."

Romulus' expression was blank as he spoke. The slave that had held the platter for the twin stumbled slightly as they moved away, jostling Romulus in the side. The man slapped the slave, sending the food tumbling to the floor. This was normal practise in Rome, and nobody batted an eyelid.

"And this," Remus's voice was heavy with reluctance as he spoke. "Is my late father's wife, Merle."

Merle shot him a sardonic look as she heard his tone, but Antony missed it, instead replaying the exotic name in his head.

"Oh my beautiful black bird," his usual charming smile was turned on to maximum effect. "Such a pleasure. Such an honour."

Merle smiled in a coy manner. "I am most touched." But her tone indicated that she wished for more than touch, which was music to Antony's ears. She would be his – of this the Tribune was certain.

OOO

Alarms were blaring in the Library Arcanium. Not unusual. It happened most days since a group of students had decided that policing the multiverse against powerful and God-like beings was a good idea.

The agents of the Anti-Cliché and Mary-Sue Elimination Society scrambled to the Briefing Room, some more elegantly than others. Alice and several of the American agents were still in their pyjamas, rubbing sleep from their eyes, and not noticing or caring that their hair was less than presentable. Rhia carried a heavy frying-pan, still containing a rather sad looking solitary pancake.

There were several screams as the wall crashed inwards, and Chevilla's bonnet protruded into the room, almost flattening Cristoph and Dave. A frazzled looking Jared at the wheel, began profusely apologising.

"Sorry!" he yelled. "Forgot to put the parking brake on! I had to chase her down the corridor!"

No one wanted to know how Chevilla had crashed through the wall when Jared's lab was on the basement level. Despite almost being turned into a human pancake, Dave adopted a wise expression, and began stroking his beard.

"Ah...Confucius says: 'Man who run in front of car get tired. Man who run behind car get exhausted'."

On the other side of the room, Shirley was restrained by Ben.

Harriet, Tash and Michael legged it into the room, all looking flustered, followed closely by Phoenixia, who snapped her fingers and silenced the deafening alarms.

"Everyone present?" Michael asked, tallying the heads in the room. As soon as he asked this, Louise made her unfashionably late entrance, pyjama-clad like many of the agents present.

"Dumpling! You're alive!" Alice exclaimed, her glee undisguised.

"Shut up Alice," Louise muttered, stealing the last pancake from Rhia's frying pan. With her mouth already full, she asked, "May I?"

"Don't eat too much Louise," Harriet advised. "This'll be a mission for you."

The agent blinked slowly, before turning on her heel and heading for the door. "I'm going back to bed."

"It's Merle," Harriet added.

"I'm _definitely _going back to bed." Louise reached for the handle, only to be blocked by Tash. The leader had flashstepped across the room and was barring the door with one arm.

Harriet stepped backwards and Phoenixia loaded the information to the view screen. Several people recognised the fandom instantly.

"That's Rome, isn't it?" Tash asked in dread, as she remembered all the reasons that this fandom was Black Listed. The series was a modern, violent and sex-filled take on the events in ancient Rome during the times of Julius Caesar and Mark Antony.

"That was a good series," Alice stated with a naughty grin, bouncing in her seat as she always did when she got excited over anything. "Full of sex and giant cocks." She paused to wink. "And I don't mean the bird."

"Uhh...cock-a-doodle-do?" Dave quipped weakly, letting out a pain filled yelp as Shirley raked her claws down his spine. "What? Someone had to say it..."

"Merle isn't alone," Harriet continued. "She's got two companions. Both male."

Only Tash was close enough to see Louise's face drop.

"Richard?" Alice squeaked in genuine fear. The Society founder nodded.

"And some other bloke we don't know," she continued, before turning her head expectantly to Louise for an explanation.

"Another friend of yours?"

Louise sent her a near death glare, but it came off as too sleepy to be effective.

"According to the data received," Phoenixia interjected. "The family are posing as Patricians, with Merle as widowed head of the house. Richard and the other guy are posing as twin sons from the Patrician's first marriage."

"Robert," Louise stated in a strong voice. "He's Richard's twin. Not half as much of a Stu, but still an annoying little..."

As the insults were issued, Tash steered the agent back to her seat, before standing beside Harriet and addressing the room.

"This is a Black Listed fandom. Death, violence, sex of all description happen frequently here, and there is no pixie dust to bring you back if you die." She drew herself up tall. "Because of this, I'm going to the fandom. But since there are three of them, I'm going to ask for a team. You must be able to blend in, and ultimately, you must be able to look after yourself."

She turned to her little brother. "I want you by my side for this one, Michael. I need strong fighters. You with me?"

Michael grinned. "Always Aneki."

"Good," Tash nodded. "Louise, since its Merle, you're coming too."

Louise began eyeing the door again.

"Oh come on!" Harriet sighed. "You know her best, so you should go. In fact, as leader, I order you to go!"

The rookie gave the founder a look that clearly told her that she was not the boss of her, before getting up and heading for the exit once more.

"Emma Louise, if you don't get back to your seat in five seconds I'm telling everyone here the truth about you and Merle," Tash folded her arms across her chest, and Louise halted in her tracks. The entire room was watching her, half of them quietly wishing that Louise would continue her walk so they could hear what was obviously a juicy secret.

"You bitch," Louise whispered bitterly, plodding back to her seat.

"Woof," Tash replied dryly. Alice poked her in the side for stealing her line, before she spoke up.

"If Louise is going, I am too," she declared. There was a general rolling of eyes from the group – where Louise went, Alice was never too far behind, and this was becoming a regular theme for their missions.

"Yes, gods forbid you two be separated," Tash voiced what everyone was thinking. "No wonder the Job Centre think you're a couple."

A few people giggled, but Harriet had spotted a potential issue that she wanted cleared up. Sending WARGS together on missions almost always ended in problems.

"Hold on," she raised her hands (cricket bat still clasped in one). "This isn't going to be a repeat of your trip to the Cthulhu mythos last week, is it?"

Tash blinked innocently at her friend. "What was wrong with that mission?"

Harriet rolled her eyes and poked her cricket bat at Tash's chest. "Most people run in terror when they see Cthulhu! Not stand there, clasp their hands together and go "awwww!"."

"But he was so cute!" Alice giggled. "I knew under all those tentacles and slimy green scales he just wanted a glomp!"

"Moving swiftly on," Dave encouraged, trying to banish thoughts of that rather disastrous mission.

"Yes," Harriet shook her head. "Do we need more people? A big team will attract attention."

"On the contrary," Alice interrupted. "A big team will help us blend in better. If we're going to get to Merle, we need to be upper class Romans, like her. And upper class Romans will have several family members, plus loads of slaves."

Seeing everyone's slightly stunned faces, she smirked.

"That's why you need me," she continued. "I have enough information on Roman culture to sink a trireme."

"A what?" Harriet asked blankly.

"Exactly!"

"Fine, you're in," Tash said, before seeing a hand wave next to Michael. "Clairey?"

"I'm coming too!" Claire put her hand down firmly into her lap. "If you need a big group, I'm in."

"You sure you can handle it?" Harriet cautioned, but Alice interjected again.

"Actually, it's a good idea. They can pose as a married couple. Solidify our cover story."

Her hand was already scribbling furiously in her notebook, and everyone just knew she was plotting an overly-intricate backstory for the whole party. Harriet pouted.

"Well if you're all coming, I'm coming too. I don't want to miss the party."

"This isn't a holiday," Tash reminded her sternly. Harriet waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine, then I'm coming to make sure you don't all get killed. Point is, I'm still coming!"

"Me too!" Emily piped up suddenly. "I want to come too!"

"NO!" all the adults shouted in unison. It was so uncanny that it took Emily a few seconds to register that she was being rejected.

"Why not?"

Horror was written onto every face in the briefing room, and it was clear that several agents were trying very hard not to think about what could happen to Emily if she went along.

"You're eleven years old," Harriet protested, waving her cricket bat around so hard that she almost took Phoenixia's head off. "It's way too dangerous!"

"I've been in danger before!" Emily argued, her stubborn streak beginning to appear. "I want to help!"

"You'll be no help to us against a Sue of Merle's power," Louise said coldly. Normally she might have been nicer, but she was way too agitated to care at this moment.

"I'm tired of being left behind!" Emily's voice was angry now – angry at Louise for being so cruel (if honest), at Harriet for not allowing it, and everyone else for not sticking up for her. "I want to help – do something other than sit in the Library and poke the gadgets!"

But Harriet's resolve was not wavering. She drew herself up to her full height, and spoke in a tone which left no room for the argument to continue.

"If it were any other fandom, I would consider it. But not today. Not this fandom. And not these Sues – no Emily!" she added as her charge opened her mouth to argue back. "I forbid you from going. End of story."

"You can't forbid me!" Emily spluttered.

"I just did!"

The briefing room was silent and awkward. Emily sank back into her chair and began to sulk in the petulant manner that only an eleven year old girl could manage. Eventually, Alice gave a pitying grimace, and broke the silence as if nothing had happened.

"We do need more people. For the cover I'm planning, nine or ten would be ideal. And the more men the better."

Tense whispering flew around the table, and Harriet began to scan the men in the room, mentally weighing up the pros and cons of sending them to the fandom.

"_Marcus?" _she wondered. "_Nah. He'll refuse to take off his shades or bandages. That won't work for our disguise. Willie?"_ she flinched as his eyes met hers, and moved quickly on. "_No way! The fandom is violent enough without adding him to the mix! Tyler?"_ she watched the short agent nibble the arm of his chair in a peckish manner. "_...as Dave says, moving swiftly on...wait a second..."_

"Dave?" she asked. "You're an archaeologist. You'd be good for this fandom."

The tone of Dave's voice however, gave his true answer before his words.

"Apologies, madam leader, but I've got to be back in Real Life in half an hour. Job interview."

Sighing in defeat, Harriet turned to the next man.

"Ben? Please say yes," she implored. "We need more men..." Something occurred to her and she turned anxiously to Shirley. "He is still a man, right? You haven't ripped that off yet?"

Ben's cheeks when an interesting shade of crimson, while Shirley looked thoughtful, probably pondering just why she hadn't thought of that yet. All the men at the table winced, and inched their chairs away from the fearsome Cliché stick, while the girls just giggled...well, all but one.

"For your information Harriet," Lily placed her hands on her hips. "If Shirley had ripped _that _off, I would have snapped her in two – lengthways!"

Shirley's contemplative look vanished, replaced instantly by a scornful look. "I'd like to see you try!"

"Really?" Lily rounded on her. "You want me to prove it right now?"

"Wahoo! Cat fight!" Willie chanted gleefully. Harriet bopped him over the head with her cricket bat, while Lily and Shirley continued to glare at each other, lightning leaping between each of their eyes.

"Enough!" Harriet huffed. "Ben, you're coming. I have made an executive decision! And you must leave Shirley behind!"

"What?" the Cliché stick demanded, in disbelief. Ben's face, however, was lighting up.

"Wait, I get to be in a story where my muse doesn't hog the spotlight?"

"Pretty much," Tash confirmed, as the Fourth Wall sent several people tumbling off their seats.

"Sweet!" Ben cheered. "I get some screentime!"

"I'll give you screentime..." Shirley muttered mutinously.

"And my next executive decision!" Harriet's pointing finger landed on a certain ninja. "You!"

Cristoph blinked. "Me, Lady Harriet? Are you sure that's a wise idea?"

"All my ideas are wise!" Harriet puffed her ample chest out proudly. "And besides, we need more men! You are a man, and you can fight well."

The praise did little to soothe Cristoph's anxiety, but a new voice broke in. "I'm coming too then."

The leaders exchanged worried looks. Rhia had not been out of hospital long, and this was not exactly going to be an easy mission to get her back into the swing of things.

"You sure?" Michael asked. "You were a little shaken from..." He didn't need to finish. Everyone could fill in the sentence with little difficulty.

Rhia nodded once, her eyes nearly as steely as Cristoph's. "Yeah. I'm ready."

And there was no arguing with that.

"And last but not least!" Harriet whirled to point at someone else...unfortunately she was a bit too close, and her finger landed squarely on her target's left breast.

"Really Harriet, buy me a drink first..." Phoenixia winked.

"In time dear," the founder smiled. "But for now, you're coming to Rome too."

"Wait wait wait!" Tash held up her hands. "You've effectively stripped the Society of most of its senior members! Who's going to run this place while we're running about Rome?"

"I nominate Jess!" Rhia grinned.

"Seconded!" Aster said.

"Why are you nominating her?" Tash enquired of the fae. Aside from the fact that Jess was neither a leader or senior agent, to her knowledge, Aster had never expressed any particular feelings towards Jess. Aster shrugged.

"I like her. She's one of the few women here that doesn't hit on me."

Mentally shaking her head, and running over her list of the Society's most senior members, Tash turned to Valerie.

"You're in charge until we get back, Val-chan."

If Valerie had wanted to voice an objection, she didn't get a chance to, as Harriet clapped her hands gleefully and pointed dramatically to the door.

"Well now that's sorted, I hereby declare this meeting adjourned! Show me the bedsheets!"

OOO

The table gave a thunderous creak as Alice dumped six inches worth of research in front of the team, the sound echoing ominously around the wardrobe. A number of agents jumped in surprise.

"Right," Alice declared. "I've been doing a little research..."

"...a _little_?" Rhia's voice reflected the disbelief on the faces of every agent present. Alice straightened up from the table, and rested one hand on the Automatic Tailorisation machine.

"Trust me, this is a little. Now," she clapped her hands together. "I've got an idea for how we can manoeuvre ourselves around Rome, without getting caught out – because if we get caught out, it will not be pretty."

She spread her arms wide and gestured to the wardrobe around them, the various costumes in all colours and sizes lined up as though in anticipation of their antics. "And that is why we have gathered here. Because the first step of any successful undercover mission is your costume." She clapped her hands together once more, the noise bouncing off the outfits that covered the room. "Now everyone – strip to your undies!"

She sounded entirely too cheerful about that command. Harriet, Tash and Phoenixia immediately obeyed, pulling off their clothes and piling them messily on the floor. After a second's hesitation, Michael and Claire followed suit.

"...what?" Michael asked, seeing Ben, Rhia and Cristoph looking politely at the ceiling. "There's nothing here you didn't see the day Phoenixia got drunk and stole everyone's pants."

"Do forgive us, Lord Michael," Cristoph stated, his eyes fixed on a particularly interesting ceiling panel – it had a suspicious looking stain on it. "But we are a little more modest than you apparently."

As Michael rolled his eyes, and wondered if he was losing his modesty after being surrounded by so many British people, Louise reappeared, dragging an oriental style screen behind her. Without a word, but with a parting glare to the leaders, she retreated behind it, and began to strip.

"Jeeze," Harriet muttered. "Who rolled her out of the wrong side of bed?"

"You did," Michael reminded her, stepping forward to the machine. "Me first? I'm getting cold here."

"Sure," Alice was trying very hard not to laugh at Michael's Horus the Black Flame Dragon boxers. "Patricians first, then the female patricians, then the slaves."

"That's your grand plan?" Harriet asked. "That we go as a family unit?"

Alice patted her stack of research happily. "That's the plan! If we want to get to Merle, we've got to be noblemen...or women," she amended. "And noblemen never live alone. They've always got family and slaves. We can get to Merle publicly, and the slaves also mean we can get behind the scenes too. I've done all my research on how Roman families are organised, and the easiest cover story we can get away with."

Everyone took a moment to process this. Behind the screen, Louise rolled her eyes. Harriet and Phoenixia exchanged looks, wondering if it was about time Alice got herself a boyfriend. Tash finally summed up what everyone was thinking, quite simply.

"You have way too much free time on your hands, Alice," she told her friend.

"That's what the Job Centre keep saying," Louise chimed in, a pair of socks taking flight behind the screen. Alice pulled a face.

"The Job Centre can burn in hell for all I care," she declared, pointing Michael, and then to the Automatic Tailorisation machine. "Now, march Mister Patrician! And you three, stop standing there like statues and strip already!"

That stain on the ceiling tile was getting more and more interesting the longer Cristoph looked at it – although the cramp in his neck was certainly not interesting at all. Ben finally yielded and slowly peeled his shirt off. Rhia had ceased looking at the ceiling, but a thick red blush coated her face instead.

Alice peeled off a wad of paper from the towering stack of research, and began inputting the data to the machine. Michael cautiously entered, remembering all too well the last time he had been in here, and the large Tudor dress he had been accidentally sewn into upside down...mind you, he had looked a lot better than poor Clairey...

Alice pulled a few dials and levers, before banging a fist on the closed door.

"Good luck mate!" she shouted.

"That doesn't boost my confidence, Alice!"

There were a few creaks and groans as the machine's arms got to work. The agents all eyed each other nervously, their anxiety not helped by Alice's smug little grin. Louise took advantage of everyone's distraction, to slip out from behind the screen and hide behind Tash and Harriet, where no one would see her. Rhia hastily skipped behind the screen and began to pull her clothes off.

Steam billowed from the automatic tailorisation machine, as the door opened again. The Chief Agent was now dressed in a dark teal coloured tunic and a dark red toga which wrapped around most of his body. Michael looked surprised, then highly pleased with the results.

"How do I look?"

"Handsome!" Claire giggled.

"I think that turned out pretty well!" Alice sounded incredibly happy at the outcome, doing a little crazy dance in her enthusiasm. Louise sighed.

"You look like laundry!" Tash cracked up in the corner. Ben, Harriet and Phoenixia snorted in amusement, while the sounds of Rhia creasing up behind the screen were clear.

"Hey!" Michael's expression could almost be called pouting. "I am not laundry!"

"Careful what you say, Tashy," Alice warned. "Michael is now our Patrician and head of the house!" She pulled a single sheet of paper out, which displayed a simple family tree. "Clairey shall be his wife."

Claire was not listening, moving instead to adjust Michael's toga to her liking. Too busy grinning, Michael allowed her to primp.

"Hati, you can be Michael's sister," Alice declared. "You look alike...ish...and I shall be Clairey's sister."

"And the rest of us?" Tash asked, a note of dread in her voice. She had already guessed the answer. Alice could almost feel the glares stinging her, and hid her face in its customary hiding place – down her shirt.

"You guy would be our slaves..." she muttered into her chest.

There was a slight uproar from the small, half naked group.

"How come you guys get to be Patricians?" Ben protested.

"Because we can act it better," Harriet said wisely, folding her arms. "Michael and Clairey are so in love, that they make the perfect head of the household. It would be odder for two of the household slaves to be a couple. And Alice is waaay too upper class to ever take orders from us...no offence," she added.

"None taken," Alice assured her. "Now, female Patricians next!"

"Yay!" Claire practically skipped to the machine, as Alice reappeared from her shirt and put the altered data to the machine.

She paused before hitting the red button. "Clairey! What colour would you like?"

"Purple!" the excited voice piped up from inside the machine.

"Can't do purple, hon," Alice informed her.

"Purple!" Claire giggled again.

"...purple...right..." said Alice, scratching her head and turning a few dials here and there, before hitting the big red button. The machine whirred into life, the arms sewing and threading fabric around an excited Claire. The doors slid open with another dramatic puff of steam. Louise coughed pointedly, and reached for her inhaler...only to remember that she had discarded her clothes on the other side of the room.

"Wow!" Claire twirled as she emerged from the smoke. She wore a lovely lavender tunic over which was wrapped a lighter toga-like garment in white and paler lavender, a gauzy mantle of the same pinned to her hair.

"Wow..." Michael echoed, blushing as he realised he had said that aloud. Ignoring everyone's snickers , he swept up to Claire and took her hands. "Marry me?"

His fiancée poked him in the side. "You already are! But of course you may." She kissed him quickly, and gave him a sweet smile.

"Pretty Clairey is pretty!" Tash giggled, glomping the two where they stood, and totally ruining their moment.

"Thanks Aneki...thanks a lot," Michael muttered, as behind them, Alice ordered Harriet into the machine.

"Colour Hati?" Alice asked.

"Purple!" Harriet shouted.

"No!" Alice retorted. "Purple is the colour of the Gods! Colour?"

"I'm your leader! I am God!"

"Not in Rome!" Alice snapped, getting impatient now. "Seriously. Purple was their ceremonial colour and the dye was worth twice its weight in silver. It's so wrong to go parading round the Forum in it! Colour?"

Harriet sighed, seeing Alice's point. "I don't know…something similar to what my supposed brother is wearing?"

A bang of the red button later, and Harriet emerged in an outfit that almost matched Claire's, except that it was yellow and dark teal, instead of lilac and white. She had no sooner appeared before she was pushed to one side by an excited Alice, who only just remembered to take her clothes off before the door closed behind her.

A puff of smoke later (through which Louise coughed harder), and Alice bounced out in a dress of pale blue, the green toga-like stola draped differently to Claire's and Harriet's to sit her larger frame.

"Whee!" Alice swept around, to the pile of research. "I am loving this linen..."

"Get to the point, Alice," even Phoenixia was getting tired of standing around in nothing but her bra and panties (it was no fun when no one was appreciating it!).

"Be silent, wench!" Alice ordered, before she calmed down. "Hokay. Sorry. Um. Right. The six of you are going to be pretty much just above the lowest of the low."

Louise sank further behind her human shields.

"However. There will be some difference," Alice assured them. "Three of you are going to be personal slaves – slightly higher up. You can talk to your masters and they may take your advice and opinions...keyword, may."

"And the other three?" Ben asked.

"General bodyguards, gophers..." Alice shrugged.

"Umm...Alice," Louise lifted a hand timidly from her hiding place, but her face was smug as she spotted a flaw in this plan. "Gopher slash bodyguard slaves were usually men, and last I checked, we have a high ratio of women to men."

"I am aware of that my dear," Alice assured her. "I think we will need to disguise a few of our women as men...not you Lou," she added, seeing Louise's glare. "I was thinking you could be personal slave to me and Harriet. And Ben," she turned to him. "You can be Michael's."

Ben looked relieved at this – he didn't think he'd be a very good bodyguard slave. Most of his fighting abilities involved nuking or coffeeing to death, not close combat. He couldn't help but notice that Cristoph was looking particularly annoyed that Ben got to be of a higher rank than he was.

"That just leaves Clairey..." Alice paused as Claire made the decision for her, glomping Tash around the waist and holding on tightly. "Okay...so you other three are our general slaves. Phoenixia, Rhia, sorry, but you'd better shrink those boobs."

Phoenixia gave a long suffering sigh and immediately shrunk her chest down to size, broadening her shoulders slightly, as well as adding muscle to her arms, and shrinking her hips. Peeking out from the top of the screen, Rhia just looked lost.

"Rhia-chan, don't worry," Tash hurried over to the screen. "I have a pill that will take care of it." She passed said pill over, and smiled encouragingly.

"...dare I ask how you got this?" Rhia enquired, swallowing regardless. Tash blushed crimson.

"Umm...well...Adrian and I used to use stuff like this to...well...make them grow..."

"Oooooh..." Rhia shrunk back down behind her screen, requiring no further explanation. "Heeey! I might just keep taking these! The bounce doesn't hurt at all!"

"You don't have to Rhia..." Cristoph seemed to realise what he had said a second after it had left his mouth, and his ears turned scarlet. Everyone else looked at him, some bemused, and some just shook their heads. One person though, had something else on her mind.

"Cristoph, why are you still dressed?" Alice demanded. "Take it off already!"

Cristoph glowered and crossed his arms. The pose screamed "make me".

"Cristoph," Alice got up from her spot beside the Tailorisation machine and approached him. "Sit down."

He huffed, but acquiesced.

"DOG PILE!" Alice roared, tackling the ninja to the floor and squishing him firmly. Phoenixia was quick to join in, followed closely by Harriet and Tash.

"Phoenixia!" Tash pouted. "You're not half as squishy anymore! That actually hurt!"

Rhia just watched from over the top of her screen. She wondered for a moment if she should join in...until she remembered that she was half dressed.

"Rhia-chan!" Tash called, as Michael and Claire joined the dog pile, Claire poking Tash in the sides and making her squeak in amusing ways. "You get to strip him!"

"Eep!" was all they heard from behind the screen.

"Please?" Alice begged. "I think he's getting a throwing knife out!"

"Okay! Hold on!" Rhia raced out from behind the screen, crouched down beside the pile of agents (some dressed, some not so much), and began feeling for Cristoph's clothes.

"Darling!" Harriet teased. "Buy me a drink first!"

"Sorry!" Rhia pulled her hand away, the ninja's shirt clutched in her hands. How she had managed that with everyone else crushing him, she had no idea. "Cristoph, I am so sorry!"

"No you're not!" he yelled accusingly. Rhia wisely did not respond, instead reaching back in to find his pants. She knew she had them when Cristoph seemed to freeze.

"I think she got 'em!" Tash cheered, as Phoenixia rolled Alice off slightly so that she could see.

"...yeah, she got 'em!" the ex-hologram grinned naughtily.

The dog pile slowly let up, and by the time everyone was on their feet again, Rhia was found clutching Cristoph's shirt to her chest and sniffing it. "Can I keep this for a while? It smells good."

At this point Cristoph had gotten to his feet and was blushing. Wisely, no one answered Rhia's question. Alice took advantage of the distraction, to shove the ninja into the machine.

"Aww..." Phoenixia pouted. "I was enjoying the view."

The doors slid open, and Cristoph stumbled out, still pink-cheeked as he felt he was wearing a dress: he wore a plain dark blue knee-length tunic, sandals, a belt and little else.

It was at this stage that Tash wondered if Rhia had ever seen so much of Cristoph on display before – usually the ninja was covered from head to foot in clothing. From the wide eyed look, she suspected not.

"Perfect!" Alice cheered. "Nixie, you next!"

It took Phoenixia a couple of seconds to realise that Alice was addressing her. "Wait...Nixie?"

Alice nodded. "Yeah, you're playing a guy, so you're wearing this outfit too."

"...Nixie?"

"Why does she keep saying that?" Tash asked.

"...why Nixie?" Phoenixia finally regained enough control of her thoughts to ask. Alice just shrugged.

"Why not? Er, you don't mind do you? Now get in the machine please!"

Wondering just what drugs the epileptic was in fact on, Phoenixia hurried to the machine, emerging a moment later in an outfit identical to Cristoph's. The ex-hologram was unhappy however, and proceeded to rip off the bottom of her tunic so that it came to mid-thigh.

"Nixie, you aren't a girl anymore!" Alice whined. "No one is going to look at your legs!"

"I am," Phoenixia reminded her. "And besides, the shorter it is, the easier it is to run in!"

As this went on, Rhia slipped into the machine and emerged in her own outfit. She couldn't help but notice that Cristoph looked highly disappointed to see her clothed again. Ben and Tash followed after her, with little fanfare. They wore the same style of tunic as the other slaves, except Tash's came to her ankle instead of the knee and both had a small amount of embroidery on the hems to denote their slightly higher status. Finally, only one person remained.

"Last but not least, Louise," Alice jabbed a finger at the door. She was getting tired of gesturing grandly each time someone entered. Louise was scowling as she marched into the machine and slammed the door behind her.

"What is up with her?" Harriet asked. "She's been all huffy since she got up."

"It's Merle," Tash shrugged. "And it's a Black Listed fandom where we're more than likely to stick out...speaking of," she frowned and turned to everyone. "A few ground rules." She pointed to Ben. "No nukes."

"Aww!" Ben whined. Cristoph on the side, snickered quietly. The glee was quickly wiped off his face however, when Tash turned to him.

"No ninja-ing," she said firmly. "And you two," she pointed between the two boys. "Be nice to each other!"

Both ninja and nuke master exchanged huffy looks.

"Hati, no cricket," Tash continued. "Rhia, no frying pans. Alice, no glomping. Phoenixia, no sex."

"But...but..." Phoenixia pouted hard. "The centurions!"

"Nixie, you aren't a hologram anymore," Tash reminded her. "You're just as susceptible as we are to pregnancy and disease. And they don't have condoms at this point in history."

"Okay...okay," Phoenixia muttered. "Spoil my fun before we've even...wait, you're calling me Nixie too?"

The leader ignored her. "Michael, Clairey, be as lovey-dovey as you want to." Her friends beamed at her. "And Louise," Tash finished, as the final agent reappeared from the machine. "Cheer up, for God's sake. You look as though you've come to a funeral. And everyone be careful, okay? This fandom is dangerous enough without Merle added to the mix."

"Yes, mother," Alice muttered.

OOO

Not for the first time was Mark Antony found flat on his back, with a woman astride him. But it was not Atia that shared her bed with the General, it was a woman far more terrible, far more devious. Merle smiled down at the Tribune, whose eyes remained shut. He wasn't sleeping, so he turned to her as she rolled off him. Their eyes met, and both parties smiled at each other. Merle could barely contain her glee. All things were falling into place for her now. Both her sons had returned, and now she had the People's Tribune, and soon-to-be Consol and most powerful man in Rome at her beck and call. As Antony turned to lie on his back again, she smiled to herself. The pieces were moving, and soon she would have all she needed to enact her revenge. And, she thought bitterly to herself, she didn't even have to ask the pathetic gods for assistance either.

"Water!" Merle called, and her personal slave instantly appeared, bearing a glass of cold water for her mistress. She drank deeply whilst still lying down, spilling not a drop on the pristine white bed linen. When she had finished, she sat up. Antony's eyes followed her, and he marvelled at the grace and beauty of the woman. "Antony," Merle's voice was hard, controlling.

"Yes, my Goddess?" Antony's voice, on the other hand, held all the devotion of an obsessed lover.

"I want…" Merle sighed. She was using Antony, more than the poor fool realised. When he had overstayed his usefulness, he would have to be gotten-rid of. He knew too much.

"Whatever it is, my beautiful Venus. Whatever it is, I will do it for you."

Merle smiled. It was too easy. He was butter in her hands, and moulding him was as simple as moulding putty. She pondered her position. She could easily make her foe's life a misery, but where was the thrill in that? A hand rested on her cheek, and she turned to look at the face of her pawn. Antony smiled at her, but instead of returning it with her usual faux-warmth, she sighed.

"What is it?" Antony's face was a picture of concern. Perfect.

"There…" Merle's voice sounded dry, hoarse, strained; it was so unlike her usual lilting melody that it made her companion start. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Tell me what the problem is, and I will make it go away." He pulled her into a warm embrace, and she didn't resist.

"There is a woman…" Merle made her voice quiet, distant, afraid. "She is coming to Rome… she…" the carefully constructed lie paused as Merle debated with herself how best to use the legions that Antony commanded. She let a small tear trickle down her cheek. Her companion spotted it, and wiped it clear with a finger. "She… wants… to… kill… me..." Her fake sobs were made all the more convincing by the shuddering and shaking that accompanied them. After a while, she went limp in Antony's arms.

"I will protect you, oh maiden!"

Over Antony's shoulder, Merle smiled. It was perfect. With the best of the Roman army at her disposal there was little she could not, and would not, accomplish. Soon she would be the most powerful woman in Rome, with or without this sex-driven idiot on her arm.

The pair laid back into bed, and as Antony drifted into a comfortable sleep, Merle murmured to herself,

"Come Mirani, bring your little soldiers, bring them to their deaths. Come… and I will see you die for a second time."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Weee! Here goes chapter two! Let the sex, violence and crack continue! Remember to have your drinks handy, for the Society's drinking game continues!

Edit: We forgot a scene! XP It's right down the bottom...

**Insert Mutilated Bedsheet Dresses Here**

The Roman forum was one of the most crowded areas in the city. Surrounded by tall structures of stone and marble, it formed the gathering space of a majority of the population, as well as the location for some of the most important buildings in the Empire, including the Senate House, where much of the drama in the series was located. The area was a wide rectangle of ground swept by the feet of the slaves, citizens and senators that paced back and forth across it. A large colonnaded building made up a whole edge of the flagstone square, where all kinds of folk were coming and going. A bustling marketplace, complete with shouting grocers and their terrible grammar, interesting smells and a large fighting-cock ground set up in the corner, arranged itself around a tall column at one end.

It was in a quiet, dark street just behind the forum that the odd group of Society agents tumbled out. Michael, Phoenixia and Cristoph landed nimbly on their feet, while everyone else faceplanted spectacularly into the dusty ground.

"Achoo!" Ben wiped the dust from his nose, before looking up to see Cristoph snickering. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," the ninja smirked. "Nothing at all."

"Behave, boys," Tash ordered, getting up and inspecting her knees. One had scraped through the fabric. "Everyone okay?"

"You really don't want me to answer that," Louise muttered, her eyes darting all over the alley, as though she expected Merle to jump out and ambush them.

"Where are we anyway?" Michael asked, peering out around the corner of the alley. He caught sight of the crowds of people pushing and pulling around the forum, and blinked. "Impressive..."

"The Roman Forum," Alice immediately launched into what sounded like a text book recital. "Home to some of the most important buildings in the city – mostly temples, to Jupiter, to Castor and Pollux, but it's also where the Senate meets," she gestured to several of the white-pillared buildings. "Also where most of the action in this series takes place..."

"Given the mounds of flower petals," Tash pointed to a group of slaves, sweeping up a pile of beautiful red petals into a pile that was taller than them. "I'd say this is episode ten or eleven of series one. Just after Caesar makes himself head of state. That's what the petals are for. The whole city had a five day long party."

The slaves suddenly scarpered, as an excitable Claire raced to the pile, throwing pinecones at the poor men's retreating backs. As soon as they were gone, she flopped backwards into the pile of petals, scattering them to the wind. After a second's hesitation, Rhia followed, the pair of them giggling as they threw the petals into the air and twirled around happily.

"Is making a spectacle of themselves like that wise?" Cristoph asked, watching Rhia's joy with a smile of his own regardless. Harriet snapped her fingers.

"That reminds me," she pulled out what looked like a handful of SEP fields, except they were the size of buttons rather than the usual alarm clock size. "Everyone who wears glasses, attach these to them...that include you two!" she called over to Rhia and Claire, who returned to the group, stuffing flower petals into their pockets. A pretty smell now wafted up from them both.

"When did they get this small?" Tash asked, sticking one to the arm of her own glasses.

"Emily shrunk them down for me," Harriet explained. "Now, do we need Oneshots to speak Latin?"

"We shouldn't," Alice confirmed. "You only need Oneshots to give you a language if it's a specific plot point in the story...like when you were in Earth's Children and you couldn't understand Zelandonii."

"Fair enough," the leader nodded. "Now, what is the best wa...Louise! Where do you think you're going?"

The slave was already half way into the forum, her stride a determined march. She did not look back as Harriet addressed her, but she definitely heard, as her head twitched stubbornly in the other direction. In the blink of an eye however, she was standing back with the rest of the group, the back of her tunic in Tash's grasp – the leader had flash stepped over to her and hauled her back.

"I really hope you weren't thinking of going to take Merle on your own, were you?" Michael folded his arms and looked sternly down at her. Louise struggled out of Tash's grasp and glared at them all.

"Louise, there is a reason we brought a group," the Chief Agent continued. "If we all stick together, no one is getting hurt. That means no wandering off, by anyone – no matter how personal this is for you."

Feeling that he had sufficiently got his point across, Michael indicated to Harriet that she should continue.

"Right..." the leader drew a breath and began again. "Now, what do we think is the best way to find Merle and her family?"

"Emphasis on finding them quickly," Alice added. "Caesar is going to be..." she trailed off and mouthed 'murdered' before continuing in a normal voice, "in a couple of episodes. So we probably want to be out of here before the chaos descends."

There was a general murmur of agreement. No one particularly wanted to be around when that historical event kicked off.

"May I suggest," Cristoph broke in, "that since all three of our enemies are powerful, we should divide in order to conquer? We should not just go barging in. They'll be expecting us to. We may need to draw them out and separate the family."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Louise's voice was laced with impatience.

"Well..." it was Phoenixia who spoke this time. "Firstly Louise, since you're familiar with Merle, what will her motives be in a fandom like this?"

Louise frowned, thinking very hard about this. While familiar with Merle's behaviour, putting herself in her shoes was remarkably difficult, particularly taking into account the fandom, and just what was going to happen in the continuity fairly soon.

"This is Rome," she said. "For all intents and purposes, this is a depiction of one of the greatest empires in the world. So she's going to want what most upper class Romans want – power." She pulled a face. "And for a single woman to get power here...she needs to be sleeping with the right people."

"Wahey..." Alice muttered, wriggling her eyebrows, as Louise reached around blindly for some brain bleach.

"Okay...and if you're a woman and you want power in this fandom," Tash muttered. "You sleep with –"

"Caesar?" Claire suggested, and was surprised when Alice shook her head.

"Nope. He had enough problems with blinkin' Servillia. No, she'll know that Caesar is going to..." once again, she mouthed the next word, "_die, _soon. And once he's gone, there will be no one to protect her from the men who killed him."

"Added to which," Harriet interjected suddenly. "If I know my history, Caesar is in his fifties at this point – I doubt Merle is going to find him particularly attractive."

"You saying men in their fifties are ugly?" Phoenixia demanded, putting her hands on her hips (or what was left of her hips). "I happen to find mature men rather attractive..."

"Anyway!" Tash interrupted. "So its more likely that she'll be sleeping with the guy who's going to be running the show after Caesar pops his clogs...which would be –"

"Mark Antony," Alice and Louise spoke in unison. As she spoke, Alice adopted a suitably dreamy expression, and Louise poked her in the side.

"Whaaat?" Alice muttered reproachfully, rubbing her side. Seeing the confused expressions on the faces of half their group, she grinned wickedly. "Remember the giant cocks I mentioned earlier?"

"_Anyway_!" Louise interjected, as the brain bleach was swiped from her. "We'll probably find her with Mark Antony...he's still living in Pompey's old villa right now I think...but he's more likely to be visiting her bed, not the other way around."

"So we need to find out where Merle lives," Harriet summarised. "Who would know that?"

"Half the city, by the looks of it," Phoenixia muttered, her gaze fixed on a point just beyond Alice's shoulder. Everyone turned to see graffiti scrawled on the street wall. It depicted a man laying on his back, with a woman straddling him. Above the image were scrawled the name "_Antonius_" and "_Merle_".

"Hmm...but we can't just ask anyone," Harriet stated. "We need an ally. Someone who can tell us all we need to know, and gain some benefit from it."

"Anyone who doesn't particularly like Antony, who might be willing to tell us?" Ben asked.

There was a long silence, as all who were familiar with the series began to think hard. There were plenty of people who hated Antony – most of them were former supporters of Magnus Pompey, who had little love for Caesar, or his Tribune of Plebs.

"Cicero?" Tash suggested. "Antony did threaten to nail his hands to the senate door if he betrayed him."

"Nah, we can't trust anything he says," Alice shook her head. "He's so indecisive when it comes to choosing sides that the fence post is rammed up his arse."

"...Servillia?" Louise shrugged, trying to think of other influential people who might know of Merle's whereabouts.

"Nah, she'll like Merle at this stage," Tash shook her head. "Since she and her son are plotting Caesar's demise, anything that distracts Antony is good for her..." She snapped her fingers suddenly. "Wait! I've got it!"

Louise and Alice seemed to get it in the same instant, however their reactions were far from thrilled.

"Tashy..." Alice whined. "Not Atia. She's a bitch!"

"But it makes sense!" Tash said excitedly. "She'll hate Merle for stealing Antony away from her, and she'll hate Antony for screwing another woman!"

"Atia?" Phoenixia was mentally looking up the name. "Atia of the Julii? Caesar's niece?"

"Yup," Tash nodded. "And Antony's lover...or ex-lover since Merle is in the picture."

"Excellent!" Harriet bounced. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all! Onward dear underlings!"

"What about Richard and Robert?" Louise interjected, not keen in the slightest to go anywhere – aside from the fact that she wanted to find Merle herself, the thought of being in Atia's presence was nauseating. Either twin could be dangerous, but the elder especially.

"Won't they be with her?" Tash asked, confused. "I thought women were accompanied round here..."

"I imagine..." Alice interjected thoughtfully. "That if Merle is playing a widow, she'll have freedom to go wherever she pleases – kinda like Servillia. So she won't need an escort. Just slaves to guard her."

"So where will we find the men?" Rhia asked.

Louise didn't even have to think about that one.

"Brothels."

"...brothels?" Harriet repeated.

"Brothels!" Phoenixia sounded far too happy about this.

"Brothels?" Rhia and Cristoph turned a curious shade of crimson each.

"...okay then," Michael cleared his throat, and pointed. "Patricians should go meet with this Atia woman and see if she'll help us. Phoenixia, Rhia and Cristoph should go check the brothels...and Louise, you go with them."

"What?" Louise was less inclined to go round a brothel than she was to meet Atia. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Look, Merle is more likely to be around upper class families than she is at a brothel. She knows who you are. We can't let her see you...equally, we can't let Richard see Alice, which is why she's coming with us. The longer we can maintain our disguises, the better."

Louise spluttered a protest, but the look on Michael's face told her it was useless. Huffing she muttered "Yes Dominus," sarcastically before marching off to the Forum. "Come on then. Cleaner brothels are behind the Venereal temple, apparently."

Her trio of helpers followed, Phoenixia instantly checking out everyone in her line of vision, and Rhia and Cristoph's hands sneaking together for reassurance as they entered the crowd.

"What is it going to take to cheer that woman up?" Harriet asked, folding her arms and huffing.

"Merle and her sons securely in the basement," Michael answered smartly.

"And for someone to offer her a full time job..." Alice added.

"...well, we can fix one of those I suppose," Harriet shrugged. "As I was saying, onward underlings! To the house of Atia!"

She strode off into the forum, leaving the others to shake their heads. Tash facepalmed, and called out.

"Hati!"

The leader reversed back to her former place.

"...it's that way, isn't it?"

"Yeah..."

OOO

The crowd cut a path for the group, probably realising that they were busy people who would not appreciate hold ups. Cristoph and Phoenixia intimidated people aside with their height, while Rhia clung close to her boyfriend, glaring at anyone who looked at them funny. But it was the furiously determined expression on Louise's face which sent most people scurrying for cover. She was swearing to herself that when they found Richard and Robert, she would deal with them herself. No one else would get hurt – to hell with what Michael said about teamwork.

The first two brothels they had tried had yielded no results – not that Louise was surprised. They were the less fancy of the nicer brothels, for the nobles with slightly less wealth at their disposal. If Merle was the head of the house, Robert and Richard could afford to have the best that money could buy. Still they had to be getting close now...

"Any Brain Bleach left?" Rhia asked wearily. A pink-cheeked Cristoph patted her and shook his head. They had used up the Brain Bleach after the first brothel, and an incident involving a two women, a man, some leather straps, and a pot of honey. Everyone had left slightly shell-shocked (except for Phoenixia, who was still ranting about how fanfiction authors were stupid and didn't know the first thing about what made good lubricant, or even one that wouldn't invite in every parasite in the land).

Louise rolled her eyes, thankful that they did not have to go to the seedier brothels, where the women were cheaper; all four of them would likely have been scarred for life. Louise herself had been too preoccupied to care that they were walking in on couples having rowdy sex, and Phoenixia was too busy complaining that she wasn't allowed to join in.

"Here's the next one," the ex-hologram gestured to the doorway, which was lined with curtains in vibrant colours. The smell of all these places was the same – sex masked by heavy perfume – and Louise felt short of breath again, and felt for the inhaler in her pocket.

"You okay?" Rhia had not missed the action, and took her shoulder gently.

"Not really, no," was the curt reply.

She yanked the curtains aside and marched in, trying to ignore the smell.

The lady who ran this brothel was a voluptuous middle aged woman, with a wide mouth, and upon the group's entrance, she immediately began protesting.

"Not in here!" she waved her hands, trying to shoo them back out of the door. "I'll have no slave or soldier types in my place. Off with you!"

Louise noticed that the woman's wig was slipping as she flapped about in agitation, and she felt an uncharacteristically spiteful urge to pull it off. That shrill voice was giving her a headache, and her breath was getting shorter the longer she stayed here.

Fortunately this had been their standard greeting in the first two brothels they had visited, and so Cristoph jumped straight in with their agreed cover story, before the woman could force them out.

"We are seeking the twins of the Ravensclaw house. We have a message for them from our master."

The woman's mouth stretched open in exasperation. "There are no gentlemen of that house doing business here now. Now get out."

As Cristoph stubbornly repeated the group's purpose, with further emphasis each time, Rhia and Louise began to sweep the bedrooms with Phoenixia guarding their backs. Rhia clutched the borrowed Plot Summary, pulling new, more exasperated faces each time she realised that she had the wrong room. Meanwhile Louise yanked back the curtains and moved on almost immediately, pausing only to kick one unlucky patron in the crotch when he asked if she would like to join in.

"Nothing," she closed the last curtains in disgust, as Rhia hurriedly marched back towards her boyfriend, muttering about how human bodies were never supposed to bend that way. As soon as Cristoph felt her beside him, he turned away from the woman, who immediately began muttering about badly trained slaves.

Once outside, Louise took a grateful puff of her inhaler.

"Damn..." she muttered, once she had got her breath back. "If this keeps up, word is going to get back to Merle eventually."

"We've still got a few more brothels," Rhia tried. "We'll find them." She winced, slipping one foot from her sandal, and trying to rub the ache away. "Soon hopefully – gah!"

She misjudged her step and stumbled off to one side, straight into the arms of a powerful man, marching past the group. Louise whirled, expecting trouble, but the man was not dressed as a nobleman; rather his tunic had an image of Caesar's eagle, making him a legionary. Louise gasped at the man's good natured smile – it was Titus Pullo.

"Watch yourself there," he placed Rhia back on her feet, and she was promptly passed by Louise over to Cristoph, who began fussing over her.

"Thank you sir," Louise realised as the most senior slave, she should probably be the one to speak. "New slaves," she lied quickly. "Still a bit clumsy."

Rhia blushed furiously, and buried her face into Cristoph's shoulder in embarrassment. The couple were pushed aside however by Phoenixia, whom Louise was horrified to see, had dropped her disguise completely, and switched back to having a feminine form again...a _very_ feminine form.

"Aww, but you said last night you found my clumsiness endearing," Phoenixia slipped one arm around Louise's waist and gave Pullo her best smile. The ex-legionary's eyes followed a predictable path from both their faces down to their equally ample chests.

"Going to kill you, Nixie," Louise hissed under her breath.

"I guarantee you won't be saying that in the next minute," was the whispered response, in which Phoenixia took the opportunity to place a quick kiss to Louise's neck. The mortified agent squeaked in surprise, and Pullo's eyes watched with undisguised lust.

"Say soldier," Phoenixia began. "You wouldn't happen to know which of these establishments the brothers of the Ravensclaw house frequent? We have a message for them from our master."

"Are you now?" Pullo's brain sounded as though it were struggling to catch up. "Well I do know that they prefer the brothel two doors down. Right behind the temple."

Phoenixia gave a gasp of joy. "That's wonderful! How can we thank you for making our job easier?"

Pullo's stance changed to a relaxed pose, and he looked Phoenixia up and down obviously. "I'm open to any kind of thanks you can think of..."

Tired of being stuck in the middle of two sex-crazed people, Louise pointedly removed her companion's arms, and turned to Rhia and Cristoph, who had backed off as soon as the conversation had begun, and were now smiling at each other and exchanging hushed words.

"Oi!" Louise called. "Stop flirting and come on! We know where we're going now!"

Sighing in disappointment, Phoenixia opted instead to press her ample body against Pullo and push him to the side of the street, before giving him a very enthusiastic thank you kiss, which the soldier was only too happy to reciprocate. Louise gave a long suffering sigh, particularly when she realised that tongues were getting heavily involved.

"Don't make me drag you Phoenixia!" she growled in irritation. Phoenixia turned away smiling.

"Didn't know you liked it rough Lou," she winked at the woman before allowing herself to be led down the next street.

Titus Pullo just watched them go, his eyes glued to the curvaceous form that was barely hidden beneath that ripped tunic. He shook his head to clear the daze.

"Damn...one smile from Pullo and they're as wet as October," he muttered to himself. "Cock, now where was I going again…?"

The brothel he had described was indeed situated right behind the temple to an aspect of Venus that protected from disease. As they passed the silk curtains, Louise felt a tightening sensation in her chest, which had nothing to do with her asthma. Richard and Robert were here. She could feel it, and she didn't seem to be the only one. Cristoph and Rhia were walking straighter than before, and Phoenixia had switched back to her male form, with little fanfare, and a grim expression on her face.

The mistress of this house narrowed her eyes at the four of them, and opened her mouth to rudely dismiss them, until Cristoph stepped forward impatiently and delivered their request. The woman's mouth hung open for a second, her eyes registering shock that she had been interrupted by a slave, until finally the word 'urgent' seemed to make its way to the forefront of her mind. She pointed to the rooms.

"Second and third, but I really don't think they want to be disturbed..."

None of them listened. Louise, Cristoph and Rhia pushed their way toward the rooms, while Phoenixia hastily planted a small bag of coins into the woman's hands, muttering vaguely to her about compensation. The weight was enough to stun the woman while the agents went to work.

Hope was welling up in Louise now – they had hunted all over the cities for the men, and now their search was about to come to an end. Across the corridor, Rhia's expression was similar, as she rested a hand on the curtain. Louise realised her own was trembling with the nervous excitement that preceded a catch. She nodded to Rhia, and in unison, the two pulled their curtains back.

The room was larger than those of some of the other brothels, draped in silks and linens of various colours. A cushiony looking bed was not currently in use, and the lighting was dim. Two figures stood against the wall opposite the bed, one female, being practically forced into the wall, a man behind her, holding her arms roughly above her head as he grunted with exertion against her.

Louise felt all the utter disgust she had been building over the past hour vanish – instead she felt utterly fearful the moment she laid her eyes on Richard – the man who had almost killed Alice. She wanted to turn and run as fast as she could. But she had a job to do, and she had to do it before anyone else got hurt.

"God, now I need therapy," she stated, as Richard's shocked face twisted into a scowl as he recognised just who had interrupted him. The unfortunate prostitute whom he was pinning face flat against the wall, merely sighed and waited for him to continue. Over Louise's shoulder, Phoenixia peeked in, all ready to make a flirtatious quip, but the words died on her lips. She had seen Richard before on his file in the Society's databanks; in the flesh, the cruelty in his eyes made her shudder.

Across the corridor, Rhia and Cristoph had found a similarly decorated room, and Robert...or at least, they thought they had. It was very hard to tell from behind. The man was tanned from many weeks' campaign in the sun, and seemed slightly diminutive compared to the first man; the identical black hair was just that little bit longer, enough to fall over his eyes. His own woman was on her hands and knees, and he knelt behind her; unlike his elder brother, Robert was too engaged with what (or rather, who) he was doing to notice that he had visitors.

Cristoph wasted no time, leaping forwards and ripping the man away from his activity, wrestling his arms behind his back, while Rhia slipped around the pair, Prohibitor in hand. The confused prostitute backed against the wall, screaming fearfully, as from the next room, Richard bellowed a warning to his brother. The yell spurned the younger brother's strength, and he ripped himself free of Cristoph's firm grasp, as Rhia grasped his wrist. Before she could get the Prohibitor on him, he was up, pulling and trying to twist free. Rhia's grasp on the Prohibitor slipped, but she was sharp enough to hold onto his wrist and twist the joint into a lock and slam him bodily into the wall. The curtains above their heads rippled from the impact.

As Cristoph seized the discarded Prohibitor, Rhia gave a scream of pain as Robert kicked backwards, landing a blow straight in her once fractured kneecap. The joint jarred, sending the agent tumbling to the floor, clutching her injury, as her enraged boyfriend's eyes turned stormy. Robert scarcely had time to turn around before he was pinned to the wall by his throat, Cristoph's gaze promising no mercy as the Prohibitor was clamped firmly around his wrist.

Meanwhile, Richard was roaring like a wounded animal as Phoenixia's muscled body wrestled against him, both of them pushing back and forth, kicking out whenever they thought they spotted a weakness in the other. Louise danced nervously around, waiting for any opening in which she could leap into the fight and slap the Prohibitor around his wrist. She could see Phoenixia's body growing steadily more and more muscled the longer the fight went on, until Richard's strength was no match for her, and she pinned him to the wall, with one of his arms dropping tiredly to his side. Louise nimbly closed the distance.

But Richard was not done yet, and Louise realised too late that she had forgotten how dirty he could fight. His sword appeared from nowhere in his exhausted hand, and thrust deeply into Phoenixia's shoulder. The ex-hologram screamed, a mixture of shock and pain all over her face, but she did not move back as trickles of blood soaked into her tunic. The second of distraction was all Richard needed, as he swiftly kicked her feet out from under her and she tumbled ungracefully to the side, blood pouring more fiercely from her open wound.

"Nixie!" Louise dropped the Prohibitor without thinking, and rushed to her friend's side, reaching into her own tunic for her handkerchief to stem the bleeding. She was barely conscious of Richard's sword above her own head, but a flash from the next room, and a cry of disbelief and despair from Robert indicated the successful activation of a Prohibitor, and with a cry of anger, Richard fled the room.

Out of the corner of the ninja's eye, a flash of metal appeared, and Cristoph released the Stu, ninjato in his hand to parry the stab that would have gone into his heart. He hastily put some distance between himself and the elder brother. However Richard was in no mood for a proper fight, seeing his twin weakened and drained of his powers. He seized Robert and shoved him brutally toward the door, not caring that the younger was not dressed, before slashing out at one of the curtain supports. The fine silk fluttered helplessly into a candle flame, which licked at it gleefully, and in seconds, the entire wall had gone up in flames. Richard seemed to evaporate in the smoke.

Coughing as he resheathed ninjato, Cristoph scrambled to Rhia's side, and pulled her arm over his shoulder. As they hurried from the room, Louise reappeared from the opposite room, one arm still around Phoenixia, despite the fact that her regeneration had already healed the worst of the stab wound.

"They got away!" Cristoph shouted over the flames, which were now rapidly spreading to the adjoining rooms. Louise, though drawing breath heavily from the smoke, still found the energy to swear loudly, as Phoenixia ushered them at a run from the burning building.

On the street, people were running left and right, buckets of water being passed between neighbours in an attempt to put the blaze out before the adjoining buildings and temple caught fire too. The exhausted agents half ran, half staggered for two streets, before they finally collapsed gratefully at the front steps of a house.

"Shit..." Louise took another puff of her inhaler and began trying to school her breathing back to its normal rate.

"Is everyone okay?" Phoenixia asked, disregarding her own injuries as soon as she spotted Cristoph anxiously inspecting Rhia's knee. The older woman sighed heavily as she too bent down to examine it.

"That's the one you injured in Babylon 5..." she muttered, before swearing. "You should go back to Val..."

"I'm fine," Rhia stubbornly protested. "He didn't kick that hard. Anyway, what about you? Where did all that blood come from?"

"Did we get any of them?" Louise asked urgently, remembering the flash of light that could only be a Prohibitor. Rhia nodded slowly.

"We Prohibited Robert, but Richard rescued him. Sorry Lou..."

"Sit down Rhiannon," Cristoph said firmly, as Rhia tried to rise to her feet again. Phoenixia began rummaging in her pockets for any painkillers, since Rhia was stubbornly refusing to go back to the Library.

"Its okay," Louise assured her. "At least we Prohibited one of them..." but inside she was fuming beyond belief at their bad luck. They had been so close! If only they'd planned better they could have got both of them, and not almost burned down half of Rome in the process.

And worse, now they had failed, she knew it would not be long before Merle knew that the Society were in Rome. The thought sent a shiver down Louise's spine, like no chill could.

OOO

She was a very pretty lady, Alice mused reluctantly. In a manipulative bitchy sort of way.

The head of the Julii household was a proud woman, with tightly curled auburn hair and a face that was never too far from a scowl. She sat on what could almost be described as a throne, with her personal slave at her side, and another serving her a platter of grapes.

Michael and Claire stood before her, with the latter just a pace behind her husband, as was custom, with Alice and Harriet bringing up the rear. Tash and Ben were to one side, melting into the shadows, as all good slaves did.

"So..." Atia plucked a grape from the platter and bit into it slowly. She made no move to offer any of her guests grapes. "You wished to speak to me...what was your name again?" She directed her comments to Michael. Alice had noticed almost as soon as they entered, that she was making no attempts to be polite to any of them, except for the head of the house – it was possible she was thinking that since Antony had ditched her, she may well need another man to champion her soon. Alice mentally snorted. Too bad for her. Michael was spoken for.

"Manius," Michael mentally rehearsed the cover name that Alice had provided from her mountain of research. "Manius Silius Eclectus."

Claire and Harriet gave the softest of giggles in unison, and Alice rolled her eyes. She had worked hard to find names that were close enough and accurate enough to fit the group; full-length real Roman names that did not immediately relate the patricians to anyone risky, and monikers for the slaves that matched their initials for easy identification. All her fellow female 'family members' had done since first hearing the most tricky name of the lot – Michael's – had been to snicker under their breaths. She was beginning to think that her efforts were sorely unappreciated.

Fortunately Atia appeared not to have noticed Claire and Harriet's unbecoming manners, focusing her attention instead on Michael.

"I see...I hear you happen to be new to Rome?"

Michael gave a soft smile. "Oh, just a flying visit. I shall be taking care of some business in the city for a few weeks. We have..." he paused to think about his words. "A task, of the utmost importance to complete, before we can continue on our way."

"How fascinating," Atia's voice was anything but fascinated however, and Michael realised that she was swiftly growing bored with this charade. It was time to get to the point.

"I believe that you are acquainted with a certain lady. Another newcomer to the city. The lady Merle?"

At the mention of the name, Atia's expression shifted to one of undisguised loathing, and she gave a snort. "Hardly acquainted, but yes, I am familiar with her."

"You don't care for her, I see," Michael's smile grew wider.

"Not in the least!" Atia muttered, rolling her eyes to the heavens. "It is no secret to Rome as to who's bedding that little tart these days...the only care I would have would be for her death! Or at least something very humiliating."

"Hmm...we share a common enemy it seems," Michael's arms were folded and his stance was relaxed now. Predictably, Atia's cold eyes fixed on him calculatingly. When she detected no hint of deception, she allowed a wicked smile to grow on her face.

"You care not for her either?" she inquired. Michael shook his head.

"Oh not at all. In fact...removing her and her sons from the picture is one of our top priorities whilst we are in the city."

The lady of the house was sitting perfectly straight now, her hands clenching against the arm rests the only clue as to her excitement. However, she was not a fool; the rational side of her mind was working at full steam now.

"And you would achieve this how? She has the People's Tribune under her thumb, and with him, all the legions he commands. Do you have an army?"

"No army," Michael admitted. "But we are clever. We have the means to incapacitate her and her family. We have brought several of our best men with us to achieve this. We just need to draw her out of her home. Somewhere where we have the advantage."

Atia rose from her chair and began to pace the room. "If I were to...assist in this matter," she began pausing to continue her thought. "Allow the assistance of my own men, and suggest that she be brought here, to an unfamiliar place, would I have your word that you would successfully take care of her?"

Michael frowned. "You would have the word of my whole house...however inviting her into your home would immediately suggest that you had something to do with it..."

"Unless there were more than one person," the lady of the Julii was ahead of him. "It would be easier to disguise as an accident. Say I was to throw a party - there's plenty of excuse for one, with Caesar's consulship - there would be enough people here to disguise it if she were to just disappear."

The pieces fell into place, and Michael beamed. "I do believe, that that is a very good idea. Very well then. You throw us a party, and we shall see to it that Merle disappears."

"I have your word?" Atia checked, but she had a wolfish smile none the less.

"Of course," Michael inclined his head. "I can promise you Atia, that by the time we are done, you will have forgotten that Merle even existed...and so will Mark Antony."

OOO

The door banged open, and the flimsy hinges rattled ominously. Merle turned her head from the book she was reading, and sighed. Her two sons stood silhouetted in the doorway. One, the elder, Richard was fuming. He stormed into the room and threw himself onto one of the couches. Robert, the younger, lingered on the threshold.

"Well don't stand there like a lemon, boy!" Merle snapped, her usual terseness directed at the uncomfortable Robert. He entered, but still looked ill at ease. Merle's attention shifted to Richard, now selecting from a collection of fruit, held on the hand of a nervous-looking slave.

"What happened?" she demanded,

Richard's face still held the anger it had displayed upon entering his home. "He..." Richard pointed directly at his brother, "he went and got himself Prohibited, didn't he!"

Merle's head whizzed around, and stared at the subject of Richard's accusation. Robert tried to hide his left wrist. On it was a bracelet-like item. He slid it beneath his ill-wrapped toga. The lady got to her feet, and approached him.

"You got yourself Prohibited by those…bastards from the Society!"

Richard, pushing away the slave to the point the poor woman fell onto the floor, commented, "It was that bitch Mirani," his voice dripped with contempt. Merle stiffened, her hand fingering the hilt of the small blade which hung at her hip. She turned back to Robert, still lingering just within the doorway.

"Get out of my sight!" she yelled. Her voice was loud enough that the crows in the tree outside were alarmed, and took to flight.

Robert didn't hesitate. He knew what sort of temper Merle had, and didn't particularly want to be on the receiving end of it. He disappeared from the main room, into a smaller, more private section of the

house.

"Now..." Merle turned to Richard, "tell me everything."

Richard told her how their enemy had found them at the brothel, and how they had been unable to get the drop on him, but Robert had been attacked. At this mention, Merle's hand flew to the dagger at her waist, withdrew it, and the point impacted in the nearest wooden item.

The slaves, who up until this point had been peering around the corner, ran from the room.

"That does it!" Merle was furious. "She brings her allies against me."

Richard corrected her, "Against us."

Merle kept going. "She attacks my family. Right, that is the final straw. Richard..." she didn't get a chance to continue, for one of her slaves sidled into the room.

"WHAT?" Merle demanded. She didn't like to be interrupted when she was plotting the demise of an enemy.

"Domina, a letter from Atia of the Julii."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Awesomeness! Now the fun, partying and strange food begins!

And also, from this point we have a Dramatis Personae of our Roman pseudonyms! Just in case.

Michael – Manius Silius Eclectus

Claire – Aelia Minor

Alice – Aelia Major

Harriet – Herminia Prima

Ben – Bantius

Tash – Thalia

Louise – Lavinia

Cristoph – Curius

Rhia – Rhea

Phoenixia – Ignia

**Insert Badly Mutilated Bedsheet Dress Here**

It was just before twilight when the Society entered the house of Atia, most of them excited by the prospect of setting their trap into motion, but some still nervous. The streets of Rome were still busy with people, but they cleared the way at the sight of a patrician and his family marching down the streets, surrounded by slaves. Those that didn't move fast enough were pushed out of the way by Phoenixia or Cristoph. As they walked, Alice and Louise hissed instructions on etiquette and behaviour to everyone present, to better aid their blending in. They had dusted off as best they could at a public fountain, ensuring the four Patricians matched the standards of the night and that the six slaves could be told apart from any others by the same blue of their tunics and the small plaques round their necks that gave their name and the name of their master.

The plan was simple. As protocol demanded, the personal slaves would accompany their masters to the party, and fetch food for them as requested. Grumbles had generally ceased by now, the importance of being incognito to catch their enemies coming to the fore. Normally not so many other slaves would be invited, but Michael had declared that it was better if the group stuck together. So the plan for the other slaves would be to guard all the entrances and exits to the building.

The house was already filling with people by the time the group arrived. Phoenixia, Cristoph and Rhia immediately hurried out to their allocated guard posts, while Ben, Tash and Louise lingered a little way behind their masters. Louise's eyes were frantically scanning every face in the room, terrified that at any second she would feel Merle's murderous gaze lock onto her face.

"Manius, good evening," Atia swept up to Michael, her curls bouncing with each step, and her face painted slightly more than it had been earlier. As Michael greeted her graciously, Claire and Alice began pulling faces at their host.

"You and your family are most welcome here tonight," Atia was saying, as she steered all four of them into the atrium. The marble walls and floors gleamed, obviously having been scrubbed furiously clean by a team of slaves earlier in the day. The _impluvium_, a pool sunken into the centre of the room under a hole in the roof, was filled with sparkling water. Beyond the far pillars of the atrium lay a cooling garden surrounded by a colonnaded room known as the peristyle. Everything was spanking clean, set up to host the large party.

As soon as they entered, Harriet and Alice exchanged significant looks. They could both feel the curious gazes that were being directed to their family, and particularly the more than interested looks of some of the men. Claire was getting them too, but to a lesser extent – it was clear from the way she stood in conjunction to Michael, and the way she was dressed, that she was married to him. Harriet and Alice therefore were far better looking prospects.

"Aelia my dear," Atia was speaking to Claire, though Alice started as well – as sisters, she and Claire shared the same given name. "You must tell me where you got your dress..."

As Claire (strenuously) began to make nice with their host, Michael's attention was being diverted by Atia's son, and Caesar's heir, Octavian, who seemed to be studying each of them with calculating attention. He briefly introduced his sister, Octavia, who appeared sullen and wraith-like at this stage of the plot's development. Alice and Harriet immediately took pity on her, and accompanied her around the room. Initially Octavia displayed little enthusiasm, until it became clear that Harriet and Alice were more interested in making fun of the other guests than being polite about them, and giggly conversation followed soon after.

"Lavinia!" Alice waved a hand, and a jittery looking Louise appeared instantly. "Wine for all of us."

A moment of relief crossed Louise's face – getting wine would mean she would have to vanish to the kitchens, and temporarily be out of sight – before she nodded obediently and hurried off. As she passed Michael, she was amused to hear that for once, someone was keeping up with Octavian's theories of philosophy. The young master of the house seemed surprised to find someone who was following his conversation so well, and was taking full advantage of this.

As Claire slipped back to Michael's side (proud of herself for successfully excusing herself from Atia's presence) Octavian's eyes caught sight of a couple that had just walked through the door, and he waved them quickly over, with a cry of "Vorenus!"

The man he was waving to wore a pure white toga, and looked mildly uncomfortable, as though he did not belong in such finery. The woman on his arm was beautiful, but looked just as uncomfortable and out of place.

As Octavian made introductions, Harriet noticed that Alice began bouncing hyperly on the spot in excitement that was almost fangirlish. "Bee in your knickers, _Aelia Major_?" she dropped her voice so that only her agent could hear.

Alice poked her in the side and whispered back. "Actually, _Herminia_, Vorenus is one of the two main characters of the show. I'm just excited to see him." Her gaze turned sad as she looked at his wife. "Niobe isn't so lucky...she's going to die at the end of this season."

Harriet watched the beautiful woman, smiling on the arm of her husband, and wondered what the plotline had in store for her...it really wasn't fair sometimes.

As the magistrate moved to greet other guests, Michael casually turned back to Octavian and enquired. "So who else can we expect to meet tonight?"

Octavian glanced around the room. "People whom mother feels will impress Caesar when he arrives here…the house of the Junii often come, although why nowadays is an interesting question…a number of senators, a few others who are in my mother's favour. Antony will show up, no doubt. Whether mother speaks to him is another matter. And of course," he fixed Michael with a look that missed nothing. "Thanks to your appearance this afternoon, Merle and her family will also be attending."

Michael felt embarrassment rise around his neck and ears. "Oh...you heard, did you?"

"I hear more than mother often realises," the boy admitted, his eyes far too serious for one his age. "I warn you now, follow through with the terms of your agreement, but try to keep it quiet. I wish no harm to come to my family's reputation."

His respect for Octavian rising, Michael smiled. "Of course, young master. We would never dream of damaging your reputation, or your mother's."

As if on cue, the crowded party fell quiet, as a new figure appeared in the doorway. Mark Antony gave no indication that he was anything less than comfortable in his surroundings, despite who owned the house he currently stood in. The Tribune of Plebs was wearing a fine toga of deep blue, and his usual arrogant smirk. Atia marched forward to greet her newest guest, an added amount of steel in her stride, and a smile that seemed very forced.

Harriet arched an approving eyebrow, as the conversation resumed around them. "Wouldn't mind a ride on him."

"Uh huh..." Alice's expression had lodged into a cross between giggling virgin and drooling fangirl.

"Alice!" Louise appeared from nowhere, carrying glasses of wine – one heavily diluted, one not so much – for both girls. "Putting aside the fact that we are on a very dangerous mission, Mark Antony is a first class cock!"

Her housemate did not appear perturbed. "Oh yeah...he does have a first class cock..."

Harriet took her wine and sipped it thoughtfully. "Atia doesn't look happy to see him. Guess she really is jealous."

The group had no time to contemplate this, as three more newcomers entered the party, and the silence fell once again, this time heavier than before, with an added shocked undertone. Harriet hissed a curse under her breath and pulled Louise and Alice out of sight, as their target and her sons appeared in the entrance. Merle wore a stola of deep plum, with gold and amethyst jewellery and a richly embroidered indigo palla pinned over the top, which triggered a burst of surprised gossip; but with barely a flutter of her magnificent lashes, everyone accepted the fact that she was wearing the colour of the Gods, and moved on. Richard and Robert, both in terracotta-red, flanked her sides. Richard's face was set into a sneer at the guests, while Robert shifted nervously, looking washed out next to his twin brother.

Louise felt her bravery and determination flee for the Roman hills. What had they been thinking? Merle was clearly getting more powerful if she could easily get away with such flagrant wearing of the colour of the Gods in public. Then she noticed that Atia's expression was positively venomous – worse than her disapproval of Cleopatra, and more deadly than her loathing of Servillia. No wonder she was so keen to help them.

Atia was not the only one. Beside Michael and Claire, Louise could see Octavian, his own expression dark and troubled. He did not like her either – or maybe he just did not like the behaviour that Merle brought out in his mother. To Louise's surprise, Lucius Vorenus was also not overly pleased with the arrival of the family. He was looking particularly hard at Robert, as though seeing him for the first time, and a small measure of Louise's confidence crept back. Clearly the Prohibitor was doing a good job.

"Something wrong, Vorenus?" Michael asked quietly, seeing the expression on the magistrate's face. Blinking, Vorenus shook his head.

"Not at all," he said. "I am familiar with the two sons is all..." He gave them a surprised look. "Your family seem to be taking interest in them."

Sure enough, Harriet was frowning at the group, and Michael could hardly disguise his reaction to seeing them.

"Oh nothing special," Claire tried to brush off. "Just curiosity."

"Hmm..." Vorenus did not sound convinced.

"To be honest, Vorenus," Michael admitted. "We are not particularly fond of the family, but for the moment it is more...prudent, to appear that we are." Vorenus nodded, aware of the pandering to popularity he had discovered the patricians were so fond of. He considered it dishonest.

He quickly shut his mouth as the powerful looking figure of Mark Antony appeared beside the group. He gave Vorenus a manly slap on the shoulder in greeting.

"Good to see you Vorenus...and this must be your lovely wife!"

While Vorenus respectfully greeted his superior, Michael scanned the room for the rest of the Society. Claire was beside him, and Harriet was quietly leading Alice back toward them, clearly thinking that there was safety in numbers. A quick glance to Merle and her family confirmed that they were distracted with Atia, and did not notice the presence of their enemies. Louise appeared to have vanished back to the kitchen for safety.

Under the pretence of taking another glass of wine, Claire leaned over to Tash and Ben.

"So...the one on the left is Richard?"

"Yeah, he looks like a Dick to me," Ben nodded, gleefully taking advantage of having no Shirley by his side. Claire giggled into her glass, near thrown by the multitude of dick-and-cock jokes. Tash however was muttering angrily.

"No one warned us they were coming! What are those guys doing out there?" She slipped into the shadows and pulled her communicator out, knowing that Phoenixia was patrolling out the back by the kitchen, and Merle and her sons had come in through the front. Which meant that Rhia and Cristoph had some explaining to do...

"Mph! Tash?"

The leader blinked in surprise at the strange greeting, and the way that Rhia was panting for breath.

"Merle is here," she stated with little fanfare.

There was a long silence.

"...she is?" Rhia sounded shocked. Tash banged her head against the wall.

"Did you guys even notice them entering the building?" she demanded.

"Umm..." strangely Tash could almost feel the heat radiating from her friend's cheeks through the phone. "Well...we umm...got a bit...distracted..."

Rolling her eyes, Tash huffed. "Honestly guys. Stay professional."

There was a clatter as Cristoph took the communicator from Rhia.

"If I may point out, Lady Tash," he managed to sound unflustered despite what he and Rhia had just been caught doing. "You and Lord Adrian once missed an entire morning of monitor duty because you were otherwise occup-"

CLICK!

Grumpily, Tash hung up.

"What happened?" Claire whispered.

"They didn't see them..." Tash muttered dismissively, poking them all to listen to Antony and Vorenus, who were now discussing Caesar's whereabouts.

"...on his way. So busy with reorganising the senate these days, I wonder how he finds time to sleep," Antony was casually waving his hand. "But he'll be here soon. He knows he'd be feeling Atia's wrath if he dared miss her party."

He turned now to the Society agents, his gaze linger longer than would be polite on all of the women. "Now Vorenus, aren't you going to introduce me?"

Struggling to remember all their names, Vorenus slowly introduced Antony to everyone in the group. Michael pulled Claire a little closer to him, something which she did not protest – the man was incredibly leery in her eyes, not to mention arrogant and assured of his own testosterone. Harriet gave him a flirty smile, but Antony seemed to guess that she would be hard to win over – there was just something in her expression that said that she did not impress easily...besides, she was a bit thin for Antony's liking.

Alice tried not to smile like a dopey idiot...but she failed miserably. It was Mark bloody Antony after all! The man was hotter than Rhia's salsa (not that Alice had ever tried Rhia's salsa – it was veg, and therefore threatened her existence). Antony didn't seem to mind her practically drooling though – on the contrary, his eyes raked over her from top to bottom and finally returned to her face with an approving stare. He definitely liked what he saw. Michael moved a little closer in a fashion that displayed possessiveness. They were in Rome, and in Rome the women of a man's family were essentially his property. He wanted Antony to be aware in no uncertain terms that they were not to be messed with.

"Just passing though?" the Tribune's voice was more polite than actually interested. Michael rattled off their cover story, which was now etched into his memory thanks to Alice's rather persuasive teaching methods. Claire's face was fixed into a frown, and when Antony turned to give her an approving glance, she sternly glared at him. He swiftly diverted his attention back to Harriet and Alice. Michael could tell he was being ignored, but carried on regardless, using this opportunity to sweep the room.

Merle was beginning to circle the room, smiling sweetly at people and laughing merrily. Richard hung not too far away from her, and Michael nervously glanced at Alice, who appeared to be too enamoured by Antony to care that she was in danger. Then he saw Harriet keeping a careful eye on the pair, and when Merle's gaze swept the room for her darling Tribune, she and Tash moved carefully to shield Alice from her sight.

"Well, enjoy yourselves tonight," Antony's voice was dismissive, and Michael found it rather rude. "I have yet to mingle properly, so you must excuse me."

And he hurried off, predictably in the direction of Merle, and Michael took this as a cue to move his family, and the two remaining slaves to a quieter area of the room.

"Okay, what's the plan?"

"We don't have a plan?" Alice's voice was disbelieving. "We spend ages doing our cover stories and we don't have a plan?"

"Yes, the plan was to get Merle and her sons to the party," Michael explained. "We didn't have one from there."

Alice rolled her eyes, and Tash shrugged. "Alice, this is the Society. We rarely have plans. Winging it is our way of life."

Alice groaned.

"I think what Cristoph said earlier was a good idea," Michael prompted.

"You mean, divide before conquer?" Claire asked. "I agree. But how do we split them up? And who do we target first?"

"Robert is Prohibited already," Ben muttered. "He's the most logical choice. Then we can go after Dicky-bird and save Merle for last."

Everyone blinked at his less than flattering nickname for Richard, and finally Alice broke into a giggle fit.

"Question now is: how do we get Robert alone to take him down?" Harriet asked, when the giggles had finally subsided. Everyone lapsed into quiet thought.

"Wish Lou was here," Claire muttered. "She knows this family and how best to target them."

"She's better staying out of sight for now," Michael cautioned. "As are you Alice," the girl pouted at this. "And anyone else that the brothers saw at the brothel today..."

A light seemed to flick on above Ben's head. "Unless we do this..."

OOO

Merle was greeting all the guests with politeness, but her smile failed to reach her eyes. She knew that Atia was jealous that she had in essence stolen Mark Antony from her, but the woman was a manipulative cow, in Merle's opinion, and deserved no better.

She was currently engaged in a brief conversation with Atia's daughter, Octavia.

"... your mother doesn't appear to like me at all..." Merle gestured lazily over her shoulder to where Atia was standing, deep in conversation with Servillia.

Octavia's gaze followed Merle's gesture, and she grimaced. It was clear to the majority of people, primarily the women, that Octavia was not happy with her mother at present.

"Have you had any luck in finding another husband, my dear?" Merle didn't look at Octavia as she asked the question, but scanned the room. Richard was nearby, likewise appraising the situation that he found himself in.

"My mother keeps suggesting suitors, but I don't like any of them."

Merle's head snapped around as Octavia answered. "Oh, I'm sure you will find someone..." her hand stroked down the side of the young girl's face, "... a pretty thing like you will have suitors clamouring at the door."

Niceties exchanged, Merle moved on. Richard fell into step at her side, with Robert lagging a little way behind. The front pair leaned against one of the pillars leading to the peristyle, the garden-like quadrangle adjoining the atrium.

Merle watched discretely from the edge of the room the people before her. She recognised the majority of them – Magistrate Vorenus and his ill-fortuned wife; Atia's son Octavian and his foolish sister; Caesar's whore Servillia...

Richard leaned towards her and whispered,

"Poor Vorenus and his wife... they do stand out, don't they?"

"I know... it's a shame that she dies soon, else I would have tried to make a slave out of her."

Robert was leaning against another pillar, trying hard not to listen to the conversation behind him. He wasn't paying as much attention to the crowd before him either. He too had seen the way the crowd were watching the Magistrate and his wife, but then, they were looking at him in a similar way too. Stupid thing... he pulled subconsciously at the Prohibitor on his wrist.

He wasn't sure where to place the blame. The Society were clearly a force to be reckoned with, and with Mirani as one of them... Robert's eyes drifted over the gathered people. Ever since he had been jumped in the brothel, he had felt odd. People were looking at him strangely, even the unfamiliar faces of the foreign patrician and his family turned towards him more often than was polite.

But Merle had talked him into coming. He had been happy back at the castle, but now he found himself Prohibited in this irritating backward fandom. His mind was wandering. He wanted to be back home, but Merle was, in essence, the boss – despite Robert's ever-increasing concerns – and he would have to do as she instructed.

Robert paused in his musings as he saw her.

A woman stood at the far end of the atrium, her dress near see-through and hugging her curvaceous form well, dipping to reveal magnificent cleavage. Her hair was tightly curled, and as she caught sight of Robert, she gave him a sultry wink. All of Robert's blood seemed to pool south of his waist. He had been interrupted rudely at the brothel earlier, and had not had a chance to go back since.

Without even noticing what he was doing, he started to slowly approach the mystery woman. Somewhere in his mind he realised that Merle would not approve of this, but he was suddenly struck with a surge of anger. Fuck her! She showed him no respect at the best of times, and since he'd been Prohibited, she'd done nothing but snarl at him. His brother was the same, and he was fed up of taking orders from them both when he was the one suffering.

Making sure that no one of importance was watching, he slunk across the atrium, meeting the gaze of the beauty, and smirking back at her. She fluttered her lashes and jerked her head toward the kitchen. Robert knew where they were heading – the storerooms by the kitchen would be the perfect location for their activities, and the noise made by the cooking slaves would drown out any noise they made.

Sure enough, beyond the chaotic kitchen, the curvaceous form was vanishing through the storeroom door. He moved quickly after her, glancing around to check no one was watching, before following her inside. The woman turned to smile at him as the door swung shut of its own accord behind him.

"Night night Robert."

The man's eyes opened wide in alarm, before rolling back in his skull as a frying pan descended on his head with a ringing crash. He slumped to the ground, out cold.

"Pity..." Phoenixia smiled, switching quickly back to her male disguise as Rhia smiled and swung her pan around. "He looked like he'd be lots of fun..."

Cristoph appeared with some borrowed rope, and set about tying his wrists. As Rhia moved some of the boxes and sacks to hide him behind, Phoenixia hastily stripped off the dress and switched back into her slave outfit.

"That was scarily easy," Rhia muttered. "I keep waiting for something to go horribly wrong."

"Two left, Rhiannon," Cristoph reminded her. "Plenty of room for error."

He pulled out his communicator and punched in a number. "Lady Tash? The brother is secure."

"Excellent!" Tash's voice was gleeful. "Hide him and then get back to your places. We'll think how best to distract the other two."

"Why not use the same tactic again?" Rhia suggested, rolling Robert over and dragging him behind several sacks of food.

"Something tells me Richard won't be so easily led astray as his brother," Tash admitted, and Phoenixia shuddered as she remembered the cold, cruel eyes she had seen at the brothel.

"Yeah...I don't fancy flirting with him," she shook her head. "We'll have to think of something el..."

She trailed off as a shout from beyond the walls caused the whole house to go silent.

"Make way for the Consul of Rome, Gaius Julius Caesar. Son of Venus, Imperator of the Gallic Legions. Stand aside and open up!"

OOO

Inside the house, the guests waited with anticipation as the man of Rome stepped in, looking especially regal in a robe that bordered somewhere between red and purple – Caesar was so close to achieving God-like status however, that it seemed appropriate. Everyone bowed their heads, and the flustered Society agents copied immediately. Louise felt dread settle even more firmly in her stomach. Now not only did she have to protect her friends from Merle's wrath, but she had to stop her doing anything to Caesar, and ruining the plot forever.

OOO


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** We three authors of Orient are, one in a taxi one in a car, one on a scooter…no, hold on a minute…

At last! Once again we regale you with tales of Roman debauchery and lots more cocks! And yes that one counts! (grins.)

**Chapter 4**

The slaves emerged from the kitchen, carrying platters of food, which were set down in front of the sprawling guests. The couches and chairs were dotted around the room, and the guests plucked olives, grapes, bread and various meats, leaning as far as they dared toward the centre of the huddle, where their host and most honoured guests were seated.

Harriet had not missed the subtle ingenuity of Atia's seating plan. She and Caesar sat in the centre of the room, commanding total attention, with Octavian not too far away to stimulate intellectual chat, which despite Atia's lack of patience for, was clearly a useful tool for distraction.

Merle and Richard had been located not too far from the kitchen, on the edge of the conversation, presumably as a not-so-subtle insult. Harriet guessed the hostess must also be trying to command attention toward the centre of the room, so that no one would notice when Merle and Richard disappeared too.

However, Merle was clearly not going to let her presence be forgotten so soon. Guests were being inexplicably drawn to her conversations, and her irresistibly smooth voice. Even Caesar and his demi-God status could not triumph over that. And of course, wherever Merle was, Mark Antony was not far behind, sprawled in the next chair and pausing between bites to gaze adoringly at his goddess.

Atia had also been careful to seat Michael's family on the outside of the arrangement, so that they could slip off and work without disturbing the guests. They also sat on the other side of the room, so that they were far away from Merle's ever watchful gaze. Claire and Harriet had been careful to position themselves in front of Alice, lest she be spotted and their cover blown.

"I have no clue what I'm eating..." Harriet declared softly to her fellow agents, holding up some kind of small fowl. "But it tastes really good!"

"Thalia, what's this?" Michael asked, holding up something small and roasted. "I think it's got a tail..."

"That's dormouse," Tash explained, rather knowledgeable about Roman food now from all the serving she was doing. "Roman equivalent of a bag of crisps. There's even some in honey for dessert."

"Ergh!" Alice dropped the rodent, while Michael grinned.

"Cool!" he nibbled at it. "Tastes like chicken."

Claire patted him on the head, and picked up an olive. "Alice? You've barely eaten a thing..."

As she spoke, Alice inched away backwards from the offered olive as though prolonged exposure might infect her with something.

"I don't like green things," she explained. "They threaten me."

She picked up a piece of bread, which was rather safe, and chewed on it thoughtfully. "Lavinia!"

There was no answer, and everyone looked around. There was no sign of the anxious and quiet agent. While not totally unexpected, given that Merle was in the room, Louise not answering a call risked blowing their cover. Alice frowned.

"Where is she? I want wine..."

Michael arched an eyebrow. "You've had quite a bit. We're working, remember?"

Alice gave him a withering look. "Michael, I am a wee bit around the waist...do I look like four glasses of diluted wine will make _me_ drunk? And besides, this doesn't taste like the out-of-date vinegar that we have to drink in Real Life."

Eyebrows arching all the higher, Michael picked up his own glass of wine and sipped it.

Alice turned her head this way and that, she scanned the room for any sign of her housemate. "Okay, now I'm worried...I'm going to look for her..."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Claire whispered. "Are women allowed to wander around alone in this time period?"

Alice shrugged. "You aren't because you're married. I'm going to go where I damn well please, thank you very much."

She rose to her feet, shook her dress out straight, and wandered off.

"...are we sure this is a good idea?" Claire repeated. "Alice has got very friendly since she started drinking."

"Yeah, and she flirts without realising," Harriet added. "Even without the addition of alcohol. She really needs to be tempered in that behaviour..."

A grin crossed Harriet's face as she said the last phrase.

Half way across the room, Alice blinked a few times. "I really have had a bit to drink haven't I?" she muttered aloud.

She trotted off toward the kitchen, her eyes darting ahead of her for any signs of her elusive friend. She heard a set of feet get up and follow her, and she guessed that it must look like she'd been drinking if they felt it necessary to follow her.

There was no sign of Louise in the kitchen, so Alice (swiping another piece of bread from the table as she went), slipped past the flustered slaves, and out the back door. It was still warm, even though it was dark, and were it not for the torches that illuminated the small square courtyard, Alice would not have been able to see. Still there was no sign of Louise, and Alice began to get seriously worried.

"Maybe she went back to the Library..." she suggested to herself, though that didn't seem right. Louise wouldn't run away from Merle.

"Then she's more intelligent than I ever believed."

All the warmth from the evening and alcohol vanished, and Alice leapt around in fright. It was not a Society agent who had followed her after all.

It was Richard.

"Oh...cock..." exclaimed Alice, reaching instinctively to her belt for her sword...only to remember that she was in a flimsy dress, with no weapons to speak of. Her eyes flicked straight to the rooftop, where she knew Phoenixia, Rhia and Cristoph had been watching all the entrances and exits all night, and hoped they would come to help, but to her horror no one appeared.

"You...you…"

The self-satisfied smirk was visible even in the semi-darkness.

"I remember you…" Richard advanced threateningly into the doorway, and Alice skittered back, knocking her ankle against one of the wooden crates. Her sense of entrapment grew to sickening proportions, and she fought to not lose all she had eaten that night.

"Get away from me!" There was no keeping the panic from her voice now, and a frightened squeak escaped her as Richard drew his sword.

"I'm surprised you're even alive," he sounded more amused than genuinely curious about this.

"No thanks to you!" Alice had never heard her voice hit this pitch before, and she swallowed hard as the sharp blade appeared directly under her chin. She could see her terrified face reflected off the metal.

"You won't – you can't kill me here!" she hastily reminded him. "Not in the middle of all these guests!"

The smirk twisted into the kind that only Gary-Stus could pull off effectively. "I can do anything I want."

Groping blindly for time, Alice stuttered. "You can't succeed in killing me, that's for sure. I have allies…"

Now Richard was sneering at her apparent slowness. "What good are you dead? If you're dead, who's Mirani going to come running to save?"

Alice edged sideways, trying to slip away from the deadly sword, reaching backwards and feeling her way along the stacks of boxes. Her knees were shaking and her eyes never left those of her assailant. Richard stepped closer and closer.

"Is that it?" Alice could feel her mouth running away with her in fear. "You simply want to use me to get to my best friend? You sick fuck!"

A crack split the air as he hit her hard, and Alice's face went numb as her body tumbled ungracefully backwards into the stacked boxes. Her cheek began to sting, and as she pulled a box off her head, Richard advanced towards her with murder in his eyes.

"Please..." It didn't matter to Alice that she was begging her enemy for mercy – survival was more important. Richard's expression held not a scrap of leniency.

"I think I'll enjoy making you suffer again..."

He drew back his sword and began to lean forwards to capture his victim, and Alice closed her eyes.

There was a dull thud and the ground shook slightly throwing up dust into the evening air. Alice peeked open one eye, and found that Richard was gone from her view. Slowly her gaze travelled down, until she found him lying face down in the dirt. On his back were Cristoph and Ben, pressing him firmly into the ground. Richard bucked and tried to shove them off, but Cristoph forced his face back into the ground using all his body weight, and set about binding his wrists.

Relief swept over Alice, wiping all thoughts from her mind, except the scattered mantra of "_I'm alive..._" repeating itself over and over to her own ears.

"Sit still or I'll coffee you to death!" Ben announced, trying to sound impressive.

"...I've heard cheddar cheese that makes better threats than that, Ben," Cristoph stated.

"...you hear cheese talking to you?" Ben blinked slowly. "God you're weird..."

"Get the hell off me!" Richard roared, trying again to push himself off from the ground. Cristoph kneed him in the small of his back, and continued binding his wrists.

Alice tried to get to her feet, but she was so shaky that she stepped on the end of her dress, and stumbled back to her knees. "You got him...you heard me..."

"Duh," Ben shrugged. "Rhia is keeping an eye on the party, and she and Cristoph traded exits with Nixie half an hour ago. I was sent to check on them, and us two heard you." He grinned widely. "Thought you had an admirer until I realised it was Dicky boy."

Alice shook her head slowly. "I wish it was a secret admirer."

"Maybe he secretly does admire you," Cristoph said absently, tying complicated knots.

"Like hell I admire that fat bitch!" Richard roared, earning another hard elbow in the back of his head for his words.

"Cristoph has a point. Are you sure you weren't flirting with him?" Ben inquired. "You tend to do it subconsciously."

Alice blinked in surprise. "I...do?"

"Yeah, all the time," Ben nodded.

"Cock," mumbled Alice, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry…"

"It's all right," smiled Ben.

"Maybe you should get a boyfriend to practise on properly, Lady Alice," Cristoph suggested mildly.

Alice's face turned irritable. "Watch it, Ninja boy. You sound like my mother."

Ben blinked. "Your…mother tells you to get a boyfriend?"

"Yes, every time I see her." Alice nodded. "She also tells me I should lose weight, start getting proper friends who don't spend their weekends playing games, and stop wearing my fuzz layer, but it's not going to happen!"

Before the boys even had a chance to look horrified, footsteps appeared from the doorway, and the large, imposing figure of Mark Antony strode into the courtyard, followed by an anxious looking Michael, and a worried Claire. Tash hovered in the shadows quietly behind them.

"What is the meaning of this?" the Tribune thundered at the two taken aback slaves. "Do you realise you have attacked a very good friend of mine?"

His voice was filled with rage, and Ben and Cristoph exchanged 'oops?' glances. Protocol demanded they got to their feet and apologise profusely, but common sense told them not to get off Richard at all.

"Bantius, Curius," Michael stepped forward, trying to school his features into one of extreme disappointment. "Explain yourselves."

Ben gulped. "Umm...we...umm..."

"This man was making improper advances on your sister-in-law," Cristoph broke in smoothly, gesturing to Alice. Strangely, Alice did not look shaken any longer. On the contrary, she was looking at Richard as though she were struggling to piece everything together.

"Aelia?" Michael demanded. "Is this true?"

"Yes..." Alice's voice was regaining its normal tone now, anger beginning to seep into her words. "He even held a knife at my throat!"

Mark Antony was starting to look a little less angered, and Michael hastily nudged Tash, the Librarian slipping from his side, and placing a Copyright gently onto the Tribune's back. The character blinked as though a fog were lifting from his eyes, and turned his head curiously toward the slave. Tash lowered her head.

"Pardon me, Dominus..." she muttered demurely, slinking back into the shadows, and winking at Michael as she went. Mark Antony brushed her from his mind, his anger suddenly returning, this time directed at the pinned Richard.

"Well now...that changes everything."

"Indeed," now it was Michael who spoke, striding forwards and looming over Richard. "You have crossed the line here. Do you realise that this woman is my property? You had no right to pursue her in any way, without first asking my permission!"

His in-character anger was suddenly interrupted, as Alice chose this moment to break into unrestrained laughter.

"Richard, me old cock!" She squatted down beside him and slapped him in a condescending fashion on the shoulder, sending his face smacking back into the dirt. "You mind if I cut your balls off and fry them in butter?"

"Go fuck yourself!" Richard snapped angrily, spitting in her face. Alice wiped it away, before grinning widely and snapping her fingers at the two slaves.

"Roll him over, boys, and give me something dull and rusty!"

She grabbed his hair, and pulled his head upright, but before she could do anything, Claire hurried forward and pulled her upwards by the arm.

"Sister dear, this is not proper behaviour, and we are in the presence of the Tribune." She bowed her head to Antony. "I am sorry sir. Relief causes her to forget her manners. Could you please escort her inside?"

As she spoke, Mark Antony raked his eyes up and down Alice's form. Despite her oddly unrestrained way of speaking, he was seeing a well endowed, very pretty single woman, and all-too-welcoming grin slid onto his face. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure," he held out an arm, which Alice gleefully took.

The Society watched them go, and a collective groan went up.

"What?" Claire asked.

"She thinks the guy is sex on legs," Tash began, counting on her fingers. "She fits the bill for a hot woman in Ancient Rome, and you just let her go off with one of the most powerful men in this fandom _and_ in history."

"...oops?" Claire giggled.

"She'll be fine," Michael shrugged. "For now. Let's get Richard Prohibited and in with his brother."

"Keep your hands off me, you bastards!" Richard was struggling again. "I know where you're from! It's obvious! You're with that bitch Mirani!"

"What tipped you off, genius?" Michael asked, folding his arms. "Anti-Cliché and Mary-Sue Elimination Society, at your service. Now someone give him a pretty bracelet, and make him shut up."

"Umm...yeah, I kinda lost mine..." Ben admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

"Honestly! Men!" Tash huffed. "I'll do it. You lot all get back inside."

She pulled her Prohibitor out, and waved Ben and Cristoph away so that she could sit on Richard instead.

"Oh sit still!" she complained. "Or this is going to hurt...actually this is still going to hurt you."

"Kiss my arse, you whore."

The whole courtyard went silent, and all the agents present suddenly felt the heat get sucked from the air. For a second it looked as though Tash had frozen, and then suddenly she burst into life, seizing Richard's head and slamming it hard into the ground. Over and over she repeated the action, yelling incoherent threats as blood started to stream from the man's nose, until Michael raced forward and grabbed his sister by the arms.

"Thalia – Tash that's enough! You're going to kill him!" he roared in her ear, pulling her off the ground as she thrashed to get free.

"HE'D FUCKING DESERVE IT!" the leader screamed, struggling to break her brother's grip. Ben and Cristoph raced in to restrain Richard again, but it was too late. The Stu leaped to his feet, and elbowed Ben in the stomach as he rushed at him. Snapping his bonds apart, he dodged Cristoph's incoming strike, and leaped clean over the eight foot stone wall in two powerful bounds.

The stunned Society blinked at the space where Richard had vanished. That wasn't in his file…

"...how?" Michael began. "Just...how?"

Cristoph was climbing over the wall, swiftly following the man into the dark streets. Ben staggered to his feet again, winded but unharmed, and Michael finally released Tash.

"We need to find him," he said, turning to the other agents. "Tash, tell Rhia and Phoenixia to stick to their doors like glue. Ben, Claire, get inside and keep an eye on Merle. I'm going to check on Robert. We need to find Richard before he gets back inside and warns Merle that we are here."

The agents scrambled to their tasks, and Michael poked Tash in the spine to snap her out of her frozen state.

"Oi, Aneki...you going to be all right?"

His sister scowled.

"Fine. Let's just find him already...and find Louise while we're at it."

As Tash barged her way back into the kitchen, Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, and followed her at a calmer pace. Claire slipped back to his side, as they returned to the party.

"Is Tashy okay?"

Michael nodded. "I just hope I'm never the one to press her berserk button."

OOO

"Anything?" Ben retreated into the shadows, where he had just seen the ninja appear. The party was starting to wind down as it finally hit midnight, everyone too full of food and wine to put much effort into anything.

"I lost him," Cristoph reported. He was pink in the cheeks from running, and his eyes darted around the room. "Ancient Rome, apparently, is like a labyrinth. Has he returned?"

Ben shook his head. "We've been searching for the last hour. No sign of him. And no sign of Louise either."

"If Lady Louise is wise," Cristoph pointed out, "she'll have gone into hiding. Lady Phoenixia is still guarding the rooftop. Rhiannon has checked all the storerooms and found nothing."

As he spoke, Michael slipped over to hear the conversation, and added. "Harriet has checked every inch of this room, with no luck." He frowned. "And I'll tell you who else we haven't seen – Alice."

As he spoke, Claire giggled loudly, and Cristoph's ears went pink.

"Haven't seen Antony either," Ben wriggled his eyebrows. "And no one has checked any of the bedrooms..."

Wincing as his mind entertained images it would rather not, Michael scanned the room, and stopped dead. "When did he get back in?"

Sure enough, Richard appeared to have materialised out of thin air, and was conversing urgently with Merle. The Sue lifted her head, and gazed across the room at the Society agents, who froze like frightened children.

"Oh bollocks," Michael summarised simply. Claire didn't even have it in her to be happy that he had made a British comment, as Merle strode to Atia's side and began to wail loudly.

"Atia my dear, you have been deceived!"

The lady of the Julii house lifted an eyebrow and sighed pointedly, making it obvious she clearly wondered why on earth she should listen to the woman before her. "Oh have I now?"

"Yes. They –" everyone turned to follow Merle's dramatic point toward the Silius family, "are not what they claim to be."

"In what way?" Caesar demanded, standing up and claiming all authority over the situation. Merle clearly was not happy with this intervention, but she carried on regardless. She had the attention of everyone in the room.

"They are plebeians, come here to rob you blind!"

A timely scream broke the tension, and Louise raced headlong out of the kitchen, and straight into the path of Merle. She skidded to a hasty halt, but was too late to stop Merle's hand from seizing her around the throat. Richard was close behind – he appeared to have vanished into the kitchen and found Louise without any of them noticing.

"Hello Mirani," Merle's voice held satisfied relish, as she twisted Louise around and held her tight to her body, a knife appearing in her free hand and pressing against her throat. "How lovely to see you again."

In the blink of an eye, Michael and Tash had surrounded them, swords out, and pointed at their opponents, all traces of their cover gone. Cristoph materialised out of the shadows with his own sword, and Ben pulled a knife out from his tunic. Merle rolled her eyes.

"Oh, put them away, little children," she huffed. "We all know you won't do anything as long as I have little Mirani here."

She pressed the knife closer to Louise's throat, and the agents tightened their circle, ignoring the shocked gasps of the other guests. Richard moved closer to Merle, drawing his own short sword as he did.

There was a stumbling sound from behind the tense scene, and Alice and Antony reappeared. The Tribune was tucking his toga in, a satisfied look on his face, and Alice was pink-cheeked and giggling like a schoolgirl. Her dress was sliding off her shoulder, and she appeared to be walking strangely.

"...wow...we walked in at the wrong moment," she giggled to Antony. For the first time that evening, Merle looked shocked, and against her, Louise felt her twitch violently.

"You slept with him?" the Sue gasped. "You _slut_!"

"Speak for yourself, you brazen hussy!" Alice snapped.

Merle opened her mouth to retort, but never got that far, as Tash took advantage of the distraction and flashstepped behind Merle and Louise, lifting Nephthys to Richard's throat.

"Don't think I won't do it," she hissed. Merle gave her a smug look.

"Oh I have no doubt you would...but I still have Mirani. And you don't want to lose another one, do you, Librarian?"

"Why you –"

"Enough!" Everyone's attention was focused on the powerful voice of Caesar. The Society backed away slightly, and even Richard and Merle looked slightly cowed, as the Consul stepped forward and snapped his fingers at Tash. "You, step away. Manius, control your slave."

Tash glanced fearfully at Michael, whose eyes were flicking back and forth between Merle and Caesar. Finally, after an added glare from the man who ruled Rome, Michael nodded at Tash, and both of them stepped away from their targets, but did not re-sheath their weapons. Satisfied, Caesar turned to Merle, who seemed very taken aback by his intervention.

"Now then. Lady Corvus, my dear, please explain these claims of yours? These people seem perfectly legitimate to myself, even if a little strange."

None of the canon characters seemed to doubt their demi-god, and Merle was clearly doing some very rapid thinking.

"I've never seen them in Rome before," she began slowly. "And they don't seem to know how to act..."

The Consul shrugged.

"I know that they are new in Rome, but they could simply be from one of the provinces. Why don't you let Manius' slave go..."

"She's my slave," Merle interjected, pulling the knife tighter to Louise's throat, and causing the agent to gasp against the pressure, a trickle of blood appearing on her neck. "They robbed me of my own property!"

"You lying little cow!" Michael could keep quiet no longer. "She has never belonged to you!"

"What little you know, boy!" Merle snapped back, squeezing Louise's arm as she struggled to get free. "I own her more than you can possibly imagine! I owned her long before you even knew she existed!"

Hands behind his back, Caesar turned to Merle. "Do you have the slave's papers?"

Merle's face answered that question. "Well...no! Not anymore, clearly!"

"Manius," Caesar turned calmly. "Have you a legitimate claim?"

Michael fidgeted nervously. "I do not have the papers with me...but surely the plaque round her neck will claim my ownership enough."

Louise ceased her struggling and froze, her eyes screwing shut as Caesar's hands swept the nameplate off her chest, and his gaze took in the name engraved on the front. He seemed to consider it, before he released it, and Louise dared to open her eyes again. Caesar paced between the parties.

"I think," he said, emerging from being deep in thought. "That we should ask the third party...the girl herself."

Louise went pale, and began to shake, but Michael felt utterly relieved.

"Yes, excellent idea. Ask her. She'll tell you who she belongs to."

"Umm!" Alice hastily stuck her hand into the air and hurried forward, tripping over her still half-tied dress. "No I don't think so! Manius you clot! Here in Rome, a slave's testimony is only considered valid if it was gained via torture!"

Now it was Michael's turn to go pale.

"...oh bollocks to this!" he finally declared, snapping his fingers at Ben. "Bantius!"

Grinning widely, Ben raised his hand and roared, "My coffeemakers are not controlled by Hoover Dam computers!"

Floodgates rose up behind Ben, and the entire room was instantly submerged in a deluge of red, translucent liquid. Guests screamed, and fled out of the doors, and Ben frowned and dipped his fingers in the substance which had soaked its way through the room.

"This isn't coffee!" he declared, licking his fingers and tasting the unmistakable flavour of red wine. "Cool!"

The rapid turn of events did not faze Merle for long, and she re-sheathed her knife, dragged Louise into the shallow impluvium pool in the middle of the room, and in one swift leap, she was out through the hole in the roof. Richard was behind her not a second later.

The Society agents gawked in surprise.

"How...what...why is there a hole in the roof?" this time it was Harriet who posed the question.

Atia, who had been standing there the whole time, completely unflustered by the events, explained. "Got to keep up with the standards."

Michael cursed his awkward and voluminous toga, which prevented easy climbing, but Tash was ahead of him, her wings bursting out of her back and propelling her up through the hole and onto the roof. Cristoph immediately slid into the shadows, and Ben began finding a sensible place to climb. The Chief Agent rounded on the rest of his agents.

"Rhia! Go watch Robert! The last thing we need is him escaping too! Everyone else outside!"

Alice was already running to the door, as fast as her dress would allow, with Mark Antony following, the twisted pleasure typically seen when marching into battle plastered all over his face. As she left, Michael noticed Caesar being led out of the door by his personal slave, Posca, presumably to somewhere a little less crazy and a lot safer. Grabbing Claire, he raced for the door, with Harriet in hot pursuit.

The Roman roof tiles were curved slats of clay, and Merle's sandals slid against them. Straightening quickly, she gripped Louise tighter, one hand securing her arm behind her back, the other around her neck.

"You have some very annoying little friends," she hissed to her captive, before yelping in pain as Louise kicked automatically backwards into her shin. Merle stumbled on the awkward roof tiles, and a tall figure seemed to materialise from the darkness, and wrenched the two apart. Merle let out a screech of protest as her captive was torn from her grasp, and focused her gaze on Louise's shrinking figure. Her saviour was a tall, busty woman with violet eyes.

"Nixie?" Louise was half shocked, half relieved. The ex-hologram rolled her eyes.

"Don't call me that!" she whined, dumping Louise on the ground as the rest of the Society rushed into the streets. Alice, who was still a little unstable on her feet, immediately glomped her friend.

"Dumpling! You're alive!"

"Funny that," Louise remarked dryly. She turned to thank Phoenixia, only to find the woman already scaling the wall of the house again. "You're going back up there?"

"Duh," Phoenixia rolled her eyes. "There's a fight going on, isn't there?"

"You'll do no such thing!" Appearing from within the house, Mark Antony stripped off his toga, and pushed Phoenixia off the wall. "You, Ignia isn't it? You should attend to your master immediately. I'll see to this chaos."

As he clambered up the wall, Alice was forced to restrain Phoenixia from peering up Mark Antony's tunic, mentioning something about the Romans and underpants. Phoenixia mentioned something about cocks in return, ruffling Alice's hair, then went to the others.

Snarling in a feral manner at losing her hostage, Merle drew her dagger again, but before she could rush the two, the winged form of the Society leader appeared through hole in the roof, Nephthys blazing.

"Hello!" she snarked, before lashing out with her flaming sword. Merle parried the blow, skipping backwards over the roof tiles, and skidding a few meters away. Tash landed, wings withdrawing into her back. She blinked, and her target seemed to wink out of existence. Snapping her head left and right, Tash studied the roof, struggling to spot her quarry.

On the other side of the roof, Richard straightened up on the unstable terracotta surface, and rushed to aid his sire. A sharp pain lanced through the back of his left shoulder, and he spun back around to see Cristoph materialise in the moonlight, shuriken glinting in his hands.

"We have some unfinished business," the ninja greeted, at the same time Ben scrambled ungracefully over the edge of the roof.

Growling like an angry creature, the Stu lunged towards them, drawing his sword. Cristoph dropped and rolled out of the way, skidding some distance on the tiles, looking up just in time to see Ben, pulling his body up the rest of the way over the roof, extracting the dagger from his belt, and jabbing out at Richard's kneecaps. The Stu buckled to the roof, and Ben straightened up, pointing at Richard's head.

"Don't mess with nukes!"

Out of nowhere, a basket fell from the heavens, and landed on Richard's head. A strong smell of fish permeated the air. Richard roared in alarm, ripping the basket to pieces, and threw two of the fish with considerable force, just as Mark Antony appeared over the edge of the roof. The Tribune ducked the oncoming targets, hearing the fish land with a wet slap on the street below.

Grabbing two more fish, Richard threw them at Ben, who was examining his finger in open mouthed surprise. The fish caught him in the face, and losing his footing he toppled over backwards, while Cristoph crouched some distance away, silently declaring that now he had seen everything.

Drawing his sword, Mark Antony raced towards Richard.

"There's something about you that I really don't like," the Tribune stated, glancing to the spot where Merle had been standing not a moment ago. "The purple, the jumping, the arguing..._that lot,"_ he gestured angrily to where Michael, Claire, Harriet and Alice waited anxiously in the street below. "This does not belong in Caesar's Rome!"

"It won't be Caesar's Rome for long!" snapped Richard.

Slipping from the shadows, Cristoph drew ninjato silently from its sheath, and glanced towards Antony. The Tribune nodded at him, and together they charged toward the Stu.

Across the roof, Merle darted around the Society leader, blurring into focus only to vanish again. Her speed was incredible, and Tash dared not move, until she saw the flash of the knife in the corner of her vision. She leaped into flashstep, leaving Merle skidding to a halt on the tiles.

"Impressive speed, Librarian," she hissed grudgingly, as Tash darted around the Sue at almost twice the speed. "That's the flashstep technique, isn't it?"

"How do you know I'm the Librarian?" Tash's voice seemed to come from all angles. Merle tossed her hair and sighed.

"Suebook… Runoa's very fond of complaining about you there."

There was a clattering sound as Tash blurred into view in front of the Sue.

"'Suebook'? Seriously?" she blinked. "You guys really do have no lives."

"And you are blind! You should know that we all talk to each other!"

The knife blade swiped toward her throat, and Tash flashstepped to the side again, bringing Nephthys across toward Merle's side. The Sue's speed was inhuman, as she twisted out of the way, bringing her knife down for another strike. Parrying, and swinging the attack away, Tash swept around for another strike.

"Juari-Ken – Doryuto!" she kicked the blade of her sword, and flames burst from the blade as it struck Merle across the chest, burning its way through the front of her dress, and singeing the tips of her hair. The Mary-Sue's expression was livid, as she brought her knife up to block the next blow.

"Juari-Ken..." Before Tash could finish the attack, Merle's form vanished once again. "Damn she's fast..."

"_But not as fast as she could be..."_ she mentally thought, as Merle blurred into view beside her and stabbed deep into Tash's shoulder. The leader stumbled on the tiles, and screamed as the knife was pulled free again. As the blade, still dripping with blood, came down once more, she rolled to the side and kicked hard at Merle's face. The Sue's head snapped back up with a nasty crack. Slipping and sliding, Tash got to her feet, pressing hard on her shoulder. The wound was deep, but she could bear it for now. Merle was stumbling backwards, her face bloody.

"Bitch!" she rasped, her nose clearly broken.

"Woof!" Tash replied dryly. On the ground below, she could vaguely hear Alice whine that that was her line.

OOO

The shouts from outside penetrated Robert's consciousness, along with the throbbing sensation coming from the back of his head. The hard stone floor upon which he currently lay was unfamiliar to him, as were the boxes lining the walls. His arms were bound behind him, making it nigh-on impossible to move. It was some kind of store cupboard, and he groaned as he remembered just what (or rather, who) he had been planning on doing in here.

"Oh dear, you're awake..." A scowling face came into view, and Robert recognised her as the girl from the brothel earlier that day. To his horror, she was swinging a frying pan.

"No, hold on, wait – !"

But the moment he realised what she was going to do with it, pain exploded through his skull again and blackness overtook his vision once more.

OOO

A metallic clang rang out as both Roman short swords collided, Mark Antony and Richard pushing against each other. Antony was taller than Richard, but the Stu currently had the higher ground, his inhuman strength pushing Antony back along the slippery roof tiles. As the canon character fought to keep his balance, Cristoph's blade struck downward towards Richard's head. The Stu twisted his body, the sword sinking deeply into his shoulder, sending blood splattering against the roof tiles. Richard roared in pain, a burst of unbelievable strength sending Mark Antony crashing backwards onto the roof. He wrenched the sword out of his shoulder, out of Cristoph's grasp, and threw it over the edge of the roof.

"My coffeemakers are not controlled by Hoover Dam computers!"

Arms flailing, Richard landed on his back, terracotta cracking under his head as the flood of wine rushed over him, soaking him through to his skin, and filling his head with the scent of alcohol.

"What is with your attacks tonight, Ben?" Cristoph shouted from where he bent over the edge of the roof, Michael stretching from the ground to pass ninjato back to him.

"I don't know!" the head slave protested. "Maybe I ate a bad dormouse!"

A roar drew their attention back to the fight – Mark Antony was back on his feet, and charging towards a dazed looking Richard. Unfortunately, the tiles were now soaked in wine and were hazardous for fighting, and Antony's sandals slid across them, his ankle twisting over and sending him crashing to the roof again.

Richard staggered to his feet, concussed, soaked, and now more than a little tipsy. He advanced on the helpless Tribune, but Cristoph appeared in a flash in front of him. As he struck, he lost his footing on the uneven and sodden surface, and his blade sliced clumsily into Richard's side. The wound poured blood instantly, but Richard seemed unaffected, raising his sword again and bringing it down towards the back of Cristoph's neck.

Metal screeched against metal, and the blade stopped an inch from beheading the ninja. He looked up to see Ben, Mark Antony's sword in hand, parrying the blow. Cristoph's fist swept up and scored a direct hit in Richard's jaw, sending him stumbling back.

"A simple 'thanks' will do Cristoph," Ben invited.

"Maybe later," the ninja replied stiffly, seizing his Prohibitor. As the pair advanced however, Richard leapt to his feet, slid the dagger from his belt and threw it toward Mark Antony, who was still struggling to take everything in while getting to his feet. Cristoph was there in an instant, deflecting the knife away, as Ben raised his hand once again.

Meanwhile, roof tiles clattered as Merle darted around the Society leader, a trail of blood now being left in her wake. Tash knew she was faster than Merle was at present, but being fast didn't mean she could see where the Mary-Sue was, and she was barely able to throw up Nephthys into a block each time Merle struck. Twice she felt her opponent's slashes hit home, opening up fresh gashes on her legs, and as her attention was diverted by yelling from the other side of the roof, Merle's dagger slashed deeply across the back of her knees. The leader buckled to the ground, as Merle skidded to a halt, her dagger crimson with blood.

"No more flashstepping for you, Librarian," she sneered. Tash lifted her head and smirked back.

"Who needs flashstep, when I can do this?" And with a sharp push of her sore legs, she shot into the air, her wings burst free of her back again, flames licking their way along the beating limbs, and down Nephthys' burnt orange blade.

"I'd like to see you hit me from up here!" the leader taunted. "Juari-Ken – Abari!"

She dove, flames spinning around her, and Merle barely had time to leap out of the way, as Tash landed a small fireball exploding where she impacted with the roof. Merle threw up her hands to shield her face from the flames, and was immediately forced to bring them into a blocking position as Nephthys appeared from within the fireball, swinging toward her head. The flames died to reveal Tash, who was growling in irritation at missing her target.

"If I were at my full strength," the Sue hissed. "I'd destroy you and Mirani!"

"If you were at your full strength, we'd make sure to attack you in daylight!" Tash retorted, as Merle swung her dagger around and stabbed. Pain flaring from her wounds, Tash flashstepped hastily backwards and found she had run out of roof. She beat her wings hard and hovered above Merle, who looked incensed that she couldn't reach that high.

There was a cry of "Now!" from the street below, and water seemed to hit Tash from all sides. Her wings were instantly snuffed out, and she fell unceremoniously to the roof below utterly drenched. Tiles cracked under her body, and sharp shards of terracotta embedded themselves into her knees and palms.

Merle was standing in open mouthed astonishment, before she burst out laughing. Glaring and utterly confused, Tash turned to see Timon and his men in the street below, each holding a bucket, and watching the rooftop anxiously. Beside them, stood Atia, Octavian and Octavia.

"What the hell was that for?" Tash shrieked at them, causing them all to jump.

"We thought the roof was on fire!" Timon explained, reloading his bucket again, just in case. Atia waved him back, having just caught the sound of Merle's hysterical laughter, and frowned in disapproval.

"I don't call this 'getting your job done', Manius!" she snapped at Michael, who was covering his face with his hands – whether from amusement or mortification, no one could tell.

Tash's head snapped back around as Merle finally stopped laughing and advanced, dagger raised. At this moment, another cry of "My coffeemakers are not controlled by Hoover Dam computers!" was barked by Ben, and another flood of wine rushed over the rooftop. Emerging from the attack, Merle raced across the tiles, slipping and stumbling toward Richard, who now looked thoroughly concussed. There was a loud rip as a plothole appeared in mid air, and the pair vanished through it.

"Damn them!" Tash roared, slamming Nephthys into the tiles. This was more abuse than the roof beams could take after everything else that had happened, and with a loud crash, Tash fell through the roof and into the atrium below. Luckily she landed on a couch, which broke after a few moments, sending her tumbling into the impluvium pool.

As the Society gathered anxiously around the hole in the roof or rushed inside to help, Mark Antony decided that he had now definitely had too much to drink.

OOO


	5. Epilogue

**A/N: **The end is here! How drunk are you all? Well we all know Alice is, now don't we?

Alice: Heeeyyy, I resent that – hic – remark…

Louise: I'm not drunk at all...

**Epilogue**

A summer breeze rippled through the tall grass, insects hummed within its depths and the sound of a stream trickled nearby. The sun beat down upon the rolling plains, beautifully accenting the wheat and corn as it made its way towards the harvest.

A bright flash, reminiscent of a great thunder storm, shone from the top of one of the distant hills. Closer to, the light took on a rainbow quality, swirling in an iridescent gleam of all the colours of the spectrum, but in a beautiful, magnificent pastel tone. There was no one on the hill to witness the arrival of the two individuals, both sopping wet, and sporting significant injuries.

Merle and Richard toppled through the plothole, landing on the warm grass. Both shielded their eyes from the brightness of the day. They had, after all, come from Roman night.

"Eurgh..." Richard, still suffering the affects of too much alcohol, stripped the outer layer of his toga, dumping it in a heap at his feet. He didn't care who found it.

Merle watched him with an incredulous look, but sighed. She too was soaked, but the warm air around her was already beginning to dry the light fabric of her stola. She reached into her damp hair, pulling the neat arrangement from its pins, and letting to fan out over her back.

Both watched the plothole vanish. Its spiralling illusion of colour faded away, and soon they were gazing across the rolling plains. Merle continued to observe the environment, but Richard slumped onto the grass. He took a deep breath, allowing the warm summer air to fill his lungs, and he smiled briefly. In some ways, he thought, this place – wherever it was – reminded him of his home...his original home.

"I think we will stay here for a while..." Merle announced, as Richard shuffled to lie down on the green blanket of the hillock. At her words, he looked up, propping himself onto his elbow. He wanted to ask about his brother. Robert may have been the weaker of the two of them, but despite everything, he felt a fraternal loyalty to him.

"What about..." he started to ask, but Merle turned with a snap, and looked at him.

"Robert is a casualty of war..." she declared, "... and besides, he has his orders. When the time comes, he will know how to act."

Richard nodded. Merle had explained all of this to him before they had arrived in Rome. He had been concerned about it then, but it was necessary. Mirani would pay for her betrayal. "Yes sire..."

Merle joined Richard on the grass. Her dress was nearly dry already, whilst Richard – looking down at his still soaked tunic...

Richard sighed, lying back against the lush vegetation. "What plans do you have for this place?" he enquired. When he had briefly looked around, he hadn't recognised it at all. It was clearly not somewhere they had been before.

"This place reminds me of home," Merle murmured, looking up at the cloudless sky. "I think I will stay off their radar for the time being...but there is still plenty of work that can be done here, Richard. Plenty of work."

Richard rolled his head sideways, his inquisitive gaze absorbed every detail of Merle's perfect face. "In what way?"

"Oh...my dear son..." Merle leaned up onto her elbows, "this fandom will have to be manipulated subtly. There are powers at work here...powers that even that bitch of a Librarian knows nothing about..."

There was a rustle of the grass behind them...

"Oh yes, my dear Merle..." the voice was oily and yet enticing at the same time. When the pair turned around, there stood a man. He was dressed impeccably. A black suit with snakeskin shoes. As he saw them look at him, he smiled. "I was wondering when I would see you again..."

OOO

"You won't get away with this!"

"Someday we will be free of this jail, and you will all be sorry!"

"I hope you rot in he-"

"SHUT IT! THE LOT OF YOU!"

It was almost possible to see a flaming mane and tail appear from Claire's body, as she roared at the prisoners in the basement. A terrified Robert wished he could cover his ears, but his arms were still tied behind his back, and he was being steered firmly by Michael. He was having trouble walking in a straight line, thanks to the monster of a headache that the frying pan blows had left.

A cell door on the end block was pulled open, and Robert felt his hands being released from their bindings before he was pushed through the door. It slid closed behind him, and Michael twisted the key in the lock.

"We'll be back down in a few hours with your uniform," he informed him.

"What are you going to do? How long will I be down here for?" The Stu's voice held a panicked edge. The cell was small, bordered on all four sides with strong barred steel and containing only a narrow bed, a sink and a toilet. He had joined a total of about twelve or thirteen others, locked up just as he was, all wearing a very noticeable colour-coded T-shirt. Robert still wore his red Roman tunic, the awkward toga having been removed by his jailers.

"Depends on what the leaders decide," Claire shrugged. "And if you behave and co-operate with us, maybe your stay down here won't be so bad. If you mess around...well, you'll just make it worse for yourself."

Robert, now clutching the bars, bowed his head, grim acceptance and sorrow on his face. Claire slipped an arm around her fiancé's back, and tugged at the toga thoughtfully.

"Hey...do you know when you have to give this back?"

Michael's gave a naughty smirk. "Actually, I kinda like it, so I was going to see if I could keep it..."

Beaming widely, Claire kissed him. "Oh good...then don't you think we should retire for the night?"

"I think that's a very good idea. Lead on, my lady…or should it be my dear _Aelia Minor_?"

"Ugh!" The disgust in McLaren's voice carried easily from a few cells down from the new prisoner's. "I think I'm going to throw up..."

A sparkly pinecone was thrown hard at his head, and the other Sues and Stus nearby winced. That had looked exceptionally painful.

As the pair left, sealing the doors behind them, Robert slumped onto his bed, his aching head resting on his arms and knees. He could almost feel the curious gazes of the others on his back, but he wasn't ready to talk to them yet. There were a lot of thoughts rushing through his head – fear, abandonment, confusion, unanswered questions – that he wanted to sort out before he calmed down.

OOO

"Ow!"

"Hold still!" Miriku's voice was firm, as her older sister squirmed.

"Ow! Miri! That hurts!"

"This the last stitch, so stop complaining!"

Tash growled as Miriku finished the last of the stitches that now held the wound on her shoulder shut. In the next bed, Rhia had submitted to having her knee examined by Valerie. Cristoph sat beside her. He had been unharmed in the fight, and one of his first actions upon returning to the Library had been to change back into his ninja garb. He felt so much better now he wasn't wearing a short dress.

"I think you're very lucky," Valerie muttered, straightening up from Rhia's bed. "It's always going to be weak after an accident like that, so you're fortunate that he didn't do more damage."

Rhia relaxed, but Cristoph was scowling, and swearing vengeance on Robert for inflicting pain upon his lady.

"You should have come straight back when it happened," Valerie was saying. "As it is, you should avoid any strenuous activity for the next day or two."

"Does cooking count as strenuous?" Rhia asked.

"No."

"Then that's okay!" the chef beamed.

"What I want to know," Ben piped up from perching on a nearby chair, "is what the hell was up with all my attacks in there?"

"They were rather amusing, especially your face afterwards," said Tash. "I'm surprised you didn't use the floodgates on yourself."

"Hey, I had a job to do. It was hard enough without doing it drunk on wine!"

"Yes, speaking of which," Valerie gave Ben a pitying look. "Shirley saw all of that on the monitor screens. She was really mad. I'd keep an eye on your crotch for the next few days. Some of the threats she was muttering were _nasty_."

Ben paled, and flopped back into the chair with a moan. "Great...I wasn't even intending to do it." He turned his head towards Alice, who sat twisting the hem of her dress in her lap. "Alice, you're a walking textbook of knowledge. What do you think happened?"

Everyone's eyes turned to the English graduate, who blushed, before shrugging weakly.

"'When in Rome'," she quoted. "Apparently it becomes '_My Vineyards are not controlled by the Spirit of the Bosphorous_' and '_Don't anger baskets of fish'_."

There was laughter in the room, but she pouted and folded her arms. Alice's good mood was rapidly deteriorating. Not only had she been dragged off to the Library for an STD check as soon as she had exited the plothole, but Louise was nowhere to be found. She had been in such a foul mood after Merle's escape, that she had marched straight to her bedroom to do what she did best in these kinds of situations...sulk. Alice was anxious that she couldn't go and cheer her housemate up.

"So in summary," Valerie ticked off the Sues on her fingers. "We've got Robert in the basement, and Richard and Merle have gone who knows where. That correct?"

"Pretty much," Tash nodded. "Add that to a wine-soaked Roman house, and the ancient world's biggest clean up operation ever, and that pretty much sums up the whole trip...incidentally," she snapped her fingers at Ben and Cristoph. "Can you boys go sort out the clean up of the fandom? It'll get you away from Shirley," she added, seeing the terrified expression on Ben's face.

Cristoph bowed and vanished through the doors, followed by a skittish-looking Ben. Alice wished she could go, but knew that until her test results came back, she would be going nowhere. Seeing her irritation, Harriet patted her on the back.

"Don't worry about Louise. She can't sulk forever."

"It's not that I'm worried about," Alice shifted uncomfortably. "I've lived with her for nearly three years. I've dealt with her sore moods a million times before. I just wish I could go help with the clean up operation. It would be a great chance to learn more about the culture! And…I'm worried about these results."

"I'm not trying to be cruel, Alice," Rhia began, as the anxious agent hid her face down the neck of her dress. "But did it not even cross your mind that this might happen as a result? I mean...it's Mark Antony. Who knows where he's been?"

"I wasn't planning on sleeping with him!" Alice wailed from down her top. "I don't know this stuff! He just...made me an offer I didn't know how to refuse!"

"Well..." Phoenixia reappeared from the back of the hospital wing, carrying a piece of paper with computer print all over it. "Thankfully, you'll have plenty of time to learn how to refuse. You're clean."

"Really?" Relief was already spreading across Alice's face as she reappeared from inside her clothing.

"Yup. You're a lucky girl Miss Wood," Phoenixia nodded, pulling a couple of large syringes out of her pocket. "However I've had the chance to develop a few general antibiotic combinations to tackle anything that may be lingering…so roll your sleeve up, missy!"

Alice went pale, obeying the instruction slowly and wincing as Phoenixia administered the two injections, muttering something about a painful lesson for getting laid.

"Well yes, that's one of the reasons it exists!" grinned Phoenixia, throwing the result papers over her shoulder, dumping the syringes in the biohazard bin and throwing herself ungracefully onto the end of the bed. "And now that that worry is over, I get to pry!" She poked Alice in the side. "Sooo? How was he?"

Alice blushed a million different shades of red. "Nixie!"

"Oh come on!" Phoenixia poked again. "I saw up that tunic! Must have been a hell of a ride!"

She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Alice returned her head down her dress.

"Allie, just throw her a small bone," Tash advised. "Then she'll leave you alone." She frowned as she addressed Phoenixia. "And then _you_ can make yourself useful by looking up 'Suebook' for me."

There was silence for a very long time...until finally…

"It was...okay...I don't know what's good or not. He seemed to be doing most of the work."

Harriet and Phoenixia smirked, while Tash giggled. You could almost see Alice's blush getting worse through the material now covering her face.

"Basically Allie, did you enjoy it?"

Alice re-emerged with a beaming sunny smile on her still-pink face.

"Then he was good. Simple!" cheered Tash, patting her friend on the back.

"I've got Suebook, by the way Tash," Phoenixia added, ruffling Alice's hair affectionately as she spoke. "Want to see it on the big screen?"

The leader nodded, and the widescreen television that hung above the opposite row of beds flickered into life. The website was almost a carbon copy of Facebook, except with purple banners instead of blue.

"I've created a fake account," Phoenixia explained, her eyes flickering as she worked her way through the website. "So we can have a look around...don't want to draw attention to ourselves. Just getting into a few of the pages..."

She paused as the site refreshed to reveal the homepage. Top of the news feed was Merle's status, updated not an hour ago. It read, "Merle Ravensclaw _just watched the Librarian getting soaked. Utterly hilarious. Thank you Timon of 'Rome'!"_

An unidentifiable noise escaped Tash's mouth, and her face turned cherry red.

"Wow..." Phoenixia looked impressed. "Look at all the people who like this status! Matthew...(a)...Mesha...Runoa has Suebook?"

"THEY ARE ALL DEAD WHEN I SEE THEM!" Tash finally found her voice, stomping from the medical wing and off down the corridor.

There was a moment where nobody spoke. And then Alice continued as though nothing had happened.

"So...who wants to spam the Sues?"

The laughter echoed through the hospital wing.


End file.
